A Matter of Trust
by DraconisMuse
Summary: Stark and Romanoff are captured by a man whose agenda isn't quite clear, but his methods may be good enough to make one of them break.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: No, I absolutely do not own the Avengers.

A/N: So, my very first Avengers fic. Or at least the first that's actually finished. This was part of my NaNoWrimo this year (along with a few other fics that I will eventually post) and I hope I did the characters justice. This takes place between Avengers and Age of Ultron. It's set not long after the first movie, so the team is still kinda new. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story!

* * *

"Stark. Stark, can you hear me?"

"Gruphelnma."

"Try using real words, Stark."

Tony forced his eyes open and then blinked sluggishly in an effort to clear the haze. His mouth was ridiculously dry, and his throbbing head seemed to be protesting the fact he was conscious. As the fog gradually cleared he became aware of two things. Two very important things.

One was that he wasn't wearing a shirt and the concrete rubbing against his chest felt like sandpaper.

The second was that he wasn't in Kansas anymore.

Or his lab, for that matter.

He muttered a curse under his breath as he pushed himself up, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs along the way. Every muscle ached as he moved, and the throbbing in his head increased until his stomach nearly revolted by relieving itself of its contents. He pushed the nausea away and swallowed thickly as he settled into a sitting position with his back leaning against an equally rough wall.

"Took you long enough."

The voice was familiar. He knew it instantly. His gaze flickered around the room, taking in every detail he could in the dim light, but after three passes he came to the conclusion that he was, in fact, alone in the bare room.

"Great," he said aloud. "So either I'm having auditory hallucinations or…."

"There's a microphone," the voice of his invisible friend added for him.

"Or that. You there, Romanoff?"

"Yes."

"Great." He used the wall to stand up and forced himself to remain standing through the dizzy spell. "Where exactly?"

"In a room. Identical to yours by the looks of it."

Tony frowned and quickly assessed the room again, but once again came up empty handed. "Can you see me?"

"Yes." There was a second's pause before Romanoff continued. "Can you not see me?"

"No," he answered. He didn't need to point out how bad of a sign that was. Romanoff would no doubt have figured out the ramifications by now all on her own.

"There's a small screen on the upper portion of a wall here. You're being recorded."

"Position of the camera?"

"Your three o'clock. Overhead. Probably in the corner."

He followed her instructions and moved closer to the corner in question. It was the darkest section of the room, but upon closer inspection he could make out a camera bolted near the ceiling. It was a small camera, but Tony still berated himself for not noticing it sooner.

With his patented cocky half smile he gave the device a little wave.

"To anyone else who might be listening," he began as he turned to search for the communication device. "Your hospitality is lacking. I would have expected at least a bed. Maybe a chocolate on my pillow. Don't expect good reviews when we get out of here."

He thought he heard an amused scoff from Romanoff, but he could have imaged it.

"I don't suppose you remember how we got here?" he asked, letting his fingers trail along the wall as he walked. To an outside observer it might look as if he were simply bored.

"Do you not remember?"

"The details are a little blurry," he answered flatly, ignoring the fact that having so little memory of what happened probably meant he had a head wound of some kind.

"Charity gala. You got a note. Went out back and…"

"It was a trap."

He vaguely remembered that part. At least enough of it to put the pieces together. The note had read ' _Bomb outside. Run_.' He, of course, didn't run. Instead he'd sent a quick message to Happy and Pepper while heading for the back of the building. His gala, his responsibility. Unfortunately, Happy had his briefcase suit. He hadn't thought the note was real though. It wouldn't be the first false alarm at a SI event. And there had been that time when the reporters had tricked him into going outside after he'd denied them entrance to a fundraiser.

This time it hadn't been a hoax though. As soon as he'd stepped outside he'd been enveloped in a cloud of smoke. The fumes had made his eyes water and his lungs spasm. The next thing he knew something hard had hit him from behind.

Tony reached up and touched the back of his head. Sure enough, a lump of impressive size was there and, judging by the crusty red residue left on his fingers, there was a gash to go along with it.

"What were _you_ doing there?" he asked. There was no way any of the Avengers or SHEILD could have been notified in time for someone to actually show up. Romanoff had to have been on her way beforehand, or already there.

"SHIELD caught some chatter," the disembodied voice of his teammate explained.

Tony rolled his eyes and leaned back against a wall. Beside him a small circular crevice in the otherwise pristine wall housed what he was sure was the intercom. It was about shoulder height, which would account for the way Romanoff's voice reverberated around the room. The crevice was too small for a hand, and he had no doubt the devise would be imbedded into the wall anyway, considering the precautions and planning that had obviously been taken.

"When don't they? Who wants me dead this time?"

There wasn't an answer right away, and he could practically picture Romanoff debating whether or not to answer. It really wasn't fair that she could see him, but he couldn't see her. He wasn't a fan of this set up for many reasons.

"Unknown," Romanoff finally answered. "We received the intel that there would be an attempt to abduct you. I was sent to check."

Babysit. She meant babysit.

"And now here we both are. Well done." He resisted the urge to rub his eyes as the headache continued to throb inside his head. "How did they manage to grab you?"

"They were already driving off with you when I got there. I let myself be captured. How's your head?"

That was a fast change of subject, Tony thought to himself. He got the hint though. No more talking about assassins getting captured by unknown abductors. "Fine," he answered blandly. "How's yours?"

"Not bleeding," she answered in the same unemotional tone. "I'm unharmed. Just drugged."

"Just drugged." Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Know with what?"

"No."

It was then that he realized something. In all the time they'd been talking, her voice had never wavered in volume. If she'd moved away or towards the intercom, it was likely that the sound of her voice would have changed, even just slightly, but it hadn't. "Are you tied up?"

"Restrained to a chair facing the screen. It's bolted to the floor."

"I'm not."

"No."

"Facing the screen?"

"Yes."

Tony lowered himself to the floor to wait. There wasn't much more they could do until their captors showed up and they could better assess the situation. "That's promising. Maybe you could ask them to change the channel for you."

"Stark…."

The change in her voice was subtle. If he hadn't heard her speak so often, he wouldn't have noticed. As it was, he caught the slight warning. The very subtle edge to her crisp tone. She wanted him to face the situation. The situation that was looking more and more dire for him. If Barton were here, he'd probably be able to infer even more, but what Tony got out of the single word was enough.

"I know," he interrupted seriously. His own subtle promise. He wouldn't tell them anything. No codes or secrets or weapons. And she wouldn't tell them anything either, which would likely lead to more pain for both of them. "Kinda weird they want you to watch, instead of me watching you."

"It's for the psychological aspect."

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"I've seen it go either way."

He decided he wouldn't ask about that right now, but he made a mental note to look into it later. Before he could fill the void with more questions or comments, the door of his room was pushed open. It was heavy apparently, and took a few seconds to open fully. He stood up automatically, and for a split-second the memory of Yinsen urging him to stand and hold up his hands flashed before his mind's eye. He refused to go that far though.

"Was wondering when the hosts would show up," he said nonchalantly in greeting. His gaze swept over the four men who entered. One was tall and bulky. Two others were average all around. His attention landed on the last man to enter. Sandy colored hair, a single streak of gray on the side, dark blue eyes, and a light-hearted smile plastered on his face that was obviously well-practiced for the sake of publicity and press. Tony knew that kind of smile well. He recognized the man from somewhere, but couldn't place the face with a name. He seemed to be the ring-leader here. At least of this little welcome committee. "You might want to fire your decorator."

"The room's specifications are my own design, Mr. Stark. I'm sorry to hear they're not up to your expectations," Boss Man replied. His clothes were tailored. Casual, but expensive. Tony figured he wasn't planning on getting his hands dirty.

"Well, I've been told I have high expectations sometimes," Tony said, his own calm, press worthy smile gracing his face. "If you wanted my opinion on your house décor you could have just asked."

"I was afraid just asking wouldn't get the desired results."

"But kidnapping will?"

Boss Man shrugged one shoulder. "I have my reasons, Mr. Stark."

"I don't suppose you'd like to fill me in on those reasons?"

"You haven't figured it out yet?" Boss Man's smile turned cocky, challenging.

"I won't be designing you any weapons. Got out of that business awhile back, in case you didn't hear," Tony said, his eyes narrowing and darkening. "And as for money…."

"I'm not interested in your money." The shark in disguise smile returned before Boss Man walked over to him and slung an arm over his shoulders.

Tony tensed, but didn't move away. The two guns pointed at him were a pretty good deterrent. Boss Man walked him to the center of the room, and turned so they were directly facing the camera. "Wave goodbye to Agent Romanoff, Stark. There's a good possibility that you won't be seeing her again."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

A/N: Okay, so I debated whether or not to combine this chapter with the next. I decided not to because of the length, but since this chapter and the next are basically the same, except for POV, I'm going to post them both at once. So chapter 3 will be up soon, and it'll be from Romanoff's POV.

* * *

There were four things about his current situation that Tony Stark knew for sure. The first being that their captor knew that Romanoff was a SHIELD agent and knew her as Romanoff, not some other name. The second was that the only door in or out of the room was most definitely secure. Thirdly, his head really hurt. And last, but certainly not least, Godzilla, as he'd nicknamed the muscle man, had a mean right hook.

Tony coughed as one of his ribs pressed against his lung. For a moment the room titled and little black dots filled his vision. With one hand splayed across the arc reactor he pushed himself up. Only for a booted foot to connect painfully with his abdomen and instantly send him back to the floor, effectively knocking what breath he'd managed to get out of his lungs all over again.

His right side burned and his back ached as if reminding him that this was not the proper way to treat a human body. Unfortunately there wasn't much he could do about it at the moment. He protected the arc reactor from the abuse as much as he could, but every time a boot landed a blow to the little glowing circle he felt himself wince and his chest explode in agony. He was pretty sure his entire torso was just one big mass of bruises and swelling at this point.

"All I wanted…." he breathed out as he tried to catch his breath again. "Was a chocolate on my pillow."

Another fist, this time to his lower back.

With a look around, Tony noted that the Boss Man had yet to return. After the first five minutes or so he had left the room, leaving his minions behind to do the physical labor. He had no idea where Boss Man had gotten off to, but he had a feeling it was wherever Romanoff was being held. He hadn't heard her say anything since Boss Man and the steroid enhanced goonies had shown up.

"Seriously, guys…."

A boot swiped his legs out from under him just as he started to get to his feet. The reactor casing scrapped against the concrete floor as his vision swam in and out of focus.

"You all have some serious anger management issues," he continued. "Remind me to introduce you to a friend of mine. You might know him. Big.…green….has a bit of an attitude problem."

A couple pairs of hands suddenly lifted him up just enough to drop him down onto his back. He blinked through the haze of lightheadedness only to come face-to-blade with a knife. The tip of the knife hovered just above his nose in a rather threatening manner.

Shame really. He liked his nose.

The knife didn't start slicing and dicing though. In fact it disappeared from view and he felt himself release a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. The relief was short lived, however. A second later he discovered where the knife had gone.

It was in his leg.

His lower left leg, to be exact. And he was pretty sure the blade had scraped a bone. Fire exploded up his leg and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep the instinctual scream from tearing past his lips.

' _Happy thoughts_ ,' he told himself. ' _I lived through Afghanistan. This is a walk in the park_.'

A park with nails and shards of glass sticking up from the sidewalk apparently.

He was pretty sure he blacked out for a few seconds, but when he started to become coherent again he realized the goonies were no longer surrounding him. He lifted his head in time to see them retreating from the room.

"What? We're done already?" The words slipped out on their own. He just couldn't help himself sometimes. The boot shoved into his hip in passing almost made him regret it. "I guess that means no chocolate, huh?"

The door closed behind them with a resounding ' _thud_ ' and he let his head rest back against the floor again. He breathed as deeply as his protesting ribs would allow for a few seconds before forcing himself into an upright position. A quick glance down at his torso confirmed his earlier assumption about bruising.

"Romanoff?" he called.

There was no answer for a few seconds, but then a voice met his ears and it definitely was not Romanoff.

"Agent Romanoff is unharmed, Mr. Stark," Boss Man said over the intercom.

"Uh huh. How about you let her talk for herself?"

"Shut up, Stark," Romanoff quipped.

He smirked tiredly and slowly got to his feet. "So what's the plan now, blondie?"

"Blondie?" Boss Man asked with a scoff. "Not very original. The plan hasn't changed, Stark. Agent Romanoff and I were discussing it while you were otherwise engaged."

"Going to fill me in?"

"I don't think that'll be necessary. Once Agent Romanoff cooperates you'll both be free to go, so hopefully you won't be here much longer, Mr. Stark."

Tony frowned as his mind started spinning. "You want something from Romanoff?"

"I know this is hard for you to believe, but the world does not actually revolve around you."

Okay, so that explained the chair and video feed. It wasn't actually him that they wanted to start spilling secrets. Bit of a change for him really. But if it was Romanoff they were after, why go this far to capture him and make it seem like he was the target?

The answer wasn't hard to grasp. It was a clever plot really.

"So you purposefully let it 'leak' that someone was coming after me," Tony said. "You used me as bait. Which I resent, by the way. How did you know it would be Romanoff who came after me?"

"I think the better question is what do I want from Romanoff?"

"Revenge. SHIELD secrets. A redheaded wall decoration. The list is endless really."

Boss Man chuckled. A practiced laugh that matched his fake, press worthy smile from earlier. "In this case, we would like Agent Romanoff to fill us in on some SHIELD codes and all the Stark Industry information she has. Yes, Mr. Stark, we know all about Natalie Rushman's time in your company."

Tony's face darkened, but he kept any further emotion off his face. At least part of this was his fault in a way. "I think you picked the wrong spy, blondie. You realize she's a trained assassin, right? And one of the best spies I've ever come in contact with. Did your research miss that little fact? You'd probably have more luck getting information out of Captain America."

"Everyone has a breaking point. Everyone."

The man's voice was nonchalant, but the icy undertone caused Tony's back to stiffen. It was true, he knew. Romanoff, despite her extensive training and history, was still human. Humans could be broken.

"Why me?" he asked simply, ignoring the man's comment.

"We want some of your designs, Stark, but I wasn't about to make the same mistake they made with you in Afghanistan. Giving you anything to work with? That would just be idiotic. And you don't have enough self-preservation to care about death threats to yourself. So who else would we capture? Pepper Potts would result in Iron Man charging in here with repulsors blazing. And abducting the Hulk?" Boss Man scoffed at the obvious stupidity of that idea. "An alien prince or super soldier? Also not too wise. So that leaves three people. You, Ms. Romanoff, and Mr. Barton. Unfortunately, Agent Barton couldn't be located. If Agent Romanoff cares about your well-being at all, she'll cooperate. And while you may not have much self-preservation, I think we both know where your weakness lies."

Tony felt his jaw tighten. He didn't know where this guy was getting his information or how he seemed to just….know things. He didn't like it though. Not at all. He made a show of rolling his eyes, acting for the camera. Something he was good at. "And where's that?"

A soft, barely audible but obviously female grunt came over the intercom, echoing through the empty room. Boss Man's icy voice followed. "With your teammates, Stark. With your _friends_."

He didn't like the way 'friends' was stressed. Almost mockingly so.

He also decided that he didn't like not being able to see Romanoff. Not knowing had to be worse than seeing what was happening.

"You obviously don't know me all that well," he commented lightly. "I'm pretty well known for my narcissistic qualities. It's a thing."

"Whatever you say, Tony. Whatever you say," Boss Man said with another chuckle.

Tony felt a cold chill go down his spine at the man's use of his first name. There was something familiar about it. Something….

Oh no.

"Who are you?" he asked darkly.

"I'm surprised you didn't recognize me, but I guess when you've met as many people as you have, placing a face can prove challenging. Admittedly, you and I didn't know each other as well as you knew my brother."

Tony stared at the camera in the corner. "Marcus Farus. Your brother is Andy."

" _Was_ , Stark. Andy is dead."

"I can't say I'm sorry about that."

"I didn't think you would be." There was a pause before Farus continued. "I have things other than you and Agent Romanoff to take care of, so if you'll excuse me. I'll return shortly. In the meantime you and Romanoff can discuss my brother since, according to my sources, there's no mention of him or the…well… _incident_ in your SHIELD file. Or talk escape plans I suppose, but honestly that would just be a waste of time. Which is something you should probably start appreciating, Stark, since at the moment it's looking like you won't have much of it left."

"Nice catching up with you too, Marcus."

There was no reply. Only the sound of a door scraping against concrete and closing with a 'thud'. Tony waited a few more seconds just to make sure Farus was gone. "He gone?"

A second passed with no reply.

Then another second.

And another.

"Yeah," came a slightly slurred reply after what seemed like eternity.

"Still in one piece, Romanoff?"

"I'm fine. Tell me about Marcus Farus."

Tony tapped the reactor absently and stared at the opposite wall as various memories he hadn't thought about in years returned. "Gossip doesn't suite you."

"Stark."

He told himself it was just intel. Need to know information for the mission. Romanoff wouldn't pry for the fun of it or to appease her curiosity, especially not right now. Still…there were reasons he didn't talk about personal aspects of his life from before Iron Man had taken to the skies. People knew what he wanted them to know, and that was enough.

Until now apparently.

Tony settled back against the wall and pushed away any and all emotion associated with Andy Farus.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Do I have to say it again?

A/N: Chapter three, as promised. It's very similar to the previous chapter, but from Romanoff's POV. There won't be many that overlap like this. Thanks for all the reviews, for reading, and to everyone who added to alerts/favorites! More to come soon.

* * *

Natasha watched the screen. She watched Tony Stark's face as a fist was shoved into his stomach. She watched as kick after kick hit their mark, leaving behind battered skin and at least one broken rib. The arc reactor glowed steadily from his chest and for a moment she focused on that instead of the muted grunts coming from the intercom.

The door was pushed open, and she clenched her fists in an effort to test her muscle control. Her movements were still sluggish, she noted. The metal cuffs holding her wrists down to the chair arms were unyielding, as were the ones attached to her ankles. She'd gotten out of similar situations, but in this case they would have to have patience.

The man she had seen in the video feed entered the room with one guard. The guard stepped to the side of the door, his fingers close to the trigger of the gun he held. Meanwhile the leader stepped forward and stood in front of her. She took a moment to study him.

He had enough finances to dress in high quality clothing. Most likely personal wealth, not funding from an outside source, considering his apparent ease and natural look with his attire. The guard was a different matter. His clothing didn't fit as perfectly as the other man's, but at the same time he seemed perfectly comfortable with the weapon in his hand. A hired soldier most likely.

"Agent Romanoff," the leader greeted. He removed a small tablet from his pocket and tapped the screen before handing it to the guard behind him. "This conversation is now private. Stark won't hear." He then placed his hands leisurely into his pockets. A subtle show of how unconcerned he was with the situation. He wasn't afraid of her breaking free from the bolted down chair and breaking his neck. An oversight that she would gladly demonstrate to him in due time.

She met his gaze unflinchingly, ignoring the image of Stark's head being slammed into the wall on the screen.

"Your teammate is getting a taste of what being my guest is like."

"What do you want?" she asked bluntly.

"Everything."

"I don't have access to that."

The man smirked amusedly. "You have two options, Agent Romanoff. Cooperate or face the consequences of being un-cooperative."

"There's a third option."

"That would be?"

"You'll find out," she answered.

On the overhead screen Tony tried to stand up, and was abruptly knocked back done.

"Stark will be dead before you, the Avengers, or SHIELD can do anything about it," he said seriously, his calm facial features turning tense for a moment. "SHIELD codes and all the information you have on how to access Stark Industry designs."

She returned his stare without comment.

"How long do you think he'll last?" He moved to stand beside her chair and watch the video feed. "Are you going to watch your friend be broken down piece by piece? Because this is only the beginning."

Tony did an admirable, even impressive, job at hiding his pain, but as a kick landed to the outer rim of his reactor, Natasha caught the flash of momentary panic that entered his eyes. He said something she couldn't hear, but was no doubt an annoying quip judging by the intensity of the punch that followed.

"I think friend is a bit of an overstatement," she said calmly.

"You're an excellent lair, Romanoff."

She caught his movement out of the corner of her eye as he moved around to the back of the chair. She had a feeling she knew what was coming next. Sure enough she felt the tale-tell prick of a needle in her neck.

"Looks like Stark is about done with his meeting." The man said as she tried to fight the drowsiness beginning to loosen her muscles. He motioned to the guard while taking up the position next to her chair again.

The guard tapped the tablet and the intercom was instantly turned back on. Natasha followed the leader's gaze to the video feed while still attempting to fight off the new drug in her system.

"I guess that means no chocolate, huh?" Stark's voice filled the room.

Natasha nearly rolled her eyes at the comment. She watched Stark push himself up and silently took inventory of the injuries she could see. It could be worse. With enough time it probably would be worse.

"Romanoff?"

She remained silent. She was not about to start a conversation with Stark with their captor standing in the room with her. Things could be said unintentionally, especially with the engineer unaware that she had company.

"Agent Romanoff is unharmed, Mr. Stark," their captor replied for her.

So he clearly didn't care if Stark knew he was listening, she noted.

"Uh huh," Stark said, sounding unimpressed. "How about you let her talk for herself?"

Though he sounded nonchalant and generally uncaring, Natasha knew he wanted confirmation of her status. If he kept up his current attitude he was going to make things harder on himself though. Their captor looked down at her and waved towards the video feed as if to say 'go ahead'.

"Shut up, Stark," she said to appease both of them. She already knew Stark wouldn't actually take her advice.

"So what's the plan now, blondie?"

She nearly scoffed at the nickname, but found herself too tired. Fighting the effects of the drug were quickly becoming futile. Her mind was becoming as sluggish as her body. She wound up zoning out for a few seconds, but eventually caught up to the conversation.

"….that'll be necessary. Once Agent Romanoff cooperates you'll both be free to go, so hopefully you won't be here much longer, Mr. Stark."

That comment was definitely aimed more towards her than Stark. The blond captor smiled over at her in a friendly manner that made her want to punch him.

"You want something from Romanoff?" Stark asked, once again gaining 'blondie's' attention.

Natasha watched his face via the feed and could practically see him working things out in his head. She wasn't too surprised by the turn of events. It was a complex plan, but effective. As the conversation once again faded into the background her sole thought was that there had to be a leak in SHIELD. Someone in SHIELD was on their captor's payroll. It was the only explanation for such a seemingly seamless set-up, and for how this man had the information he apparently had.

A light slap against her cheek brought her groggy mind back to focus. Her captor chuckled at whatever Stark had said, but his gaze was directed at her now.

"In this case, we would like Agent Romanoff to fill us in on some SHIELD codes and all the Stark Industry information she has. Yes, Mr. Stark, we know all about Natalie Rushman's time in your company."

Definitely a leak within SHIELD, Natasha thought. There were very few ways anyone would have that information. Someone within SHIELD could access it though.

"I think you picked the wrong spy, blondie," Stark said. "You realize she's a trained assassin, right? And one of the best spies I've ever come in contact with. Did your research miss that little fact? You'd probably have more luck getting information out of Captain America."

Natasha arched an eyebrow at that. She'd never heard Stark speak that highly of her. In fact, she rarely heard him speak that highly of anyone. At least anyone who wasn't himself. Maybe the drugs in her system were giving her auditory hallucinations.

Blondie's fingers were suddenly on her chin, tilting her face upwards to face him. His small smile was anything but friendly this time. His look was cold and calculating. Predatory. She narrowed her eyes and stared back.

"Everyone has a breaking point. Everyone," he added, squeezing her chin to the point of discomfort before releasing her.

"Why me?" Stark asked, bringing the conversation away from her.

As 'blondie' moved closer to the intercom she blinked slowly and tried to focus. It wasn't working very well. She barely caught what blondie said this time. Something about Stark's designs.

"….have enough self-preservation to care about death threats to yourself."

True. Stark had very little self-preservation when it came to these types of situations. He had enough to build a suite and escape the Ten Rings. Enough to work hard towards finding a cure for palladium poisoning. His nonchalance with his own life was sometimes dangerous for him though. He had flown a missile on what should have been a one way trip into space. He'd refused to tell anyone about the reactor killing him. When he came upon a situation which was bigger than himself, he was suddenly willing to throw away all his past struggles with staying alive. He was a contradiction that very few people understood.

"You, Ms. Romanoff, and Mr. Barton."

The mention of Clint's name helped her snap back to the conversation.

Their captor turned back towards her once again, and she met his eyes emotionlessly. "Agent Barton couldn't be located. If Agent Romanov cares about your well-being at all, she'll cooperate. And while you may not have much self-preservation, I think we both know where your weakness lies."

Natasha arched an eyebrow again as he approached her. She tried to mentally list Stark's possible weaknesses, but the drug made that kind of logical thought process difficult.

"And where's that?" she distantly heard Stark ask.

Blondie was expecting that question.

A satisfied smile crossed his face a split-second before his fist made contact with her abdomen, just below her ribcage. The sudden impact wouldn't normally cause her to react, but with the drug lowering her defenses she barely managed not to react. A grunt of pain escaped all the same before she could stop it.

"With your teammates, Stark. With your _friends_."

Natasha glanced at the video feed over blondie's head. Stark's face was forcibly blank, his reaction so tightly controlled that it was obvious he was livid. The expression passed quickly, but she still caught a hint of anger hidden behind his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was steady and light, but still less at ease than when they'd been beating him.

"You obviously don't know me all that well. I'm pretty well known for my narcissistic qualities. It's a thing."

A thing in her report, Natasha thought to herself. She'd written as much based on her observations of him. She wouldn't change that description, but after working with him more closely the last few months she knew he was capable of other characteristics as well. Ones he didn't normally allow other people to know about.

"Whatever you say, Tony. Whatever you say."

And suddenly they were on a first name basis? Natasha blinked rapidly to help keep her focused.

"Who are you?"

She glanced between the intercom and their captor, waiting silently for an answer. Referring to him as 'blondie' wasn't conducive. The more information they had, the better.

"I'm surprised you didn't recognize me, but I guess when you've met as many people as you have, placing a face can prove challenging. Admittedly, you and I didn't know each other as well as you knew my brother."

Tony stared back at them on the video feed. "Marcus Farus. Your brother is Andy."

" _Was_ , Stark. Andy is dead."

"I can't say I'm sorry about that."

So Stark knew their captor, and their captor's brother. Revenge was a possibility, but not necessarily a driving force if Stark didn't even know the man named Andy Farus was dead. What caught her attention the most was Stark's apparent uncaring attitude about the death revelation. No hint of sadness or regret. Not even a second's hesitation in responding.

"I didn't think you would be," Marcus Farus stated. He didn't seem angry at Stark's response, but she did notice how he stared at the engineer on the feed. He snapped out of it quickly and started moving towards the door. "I have things other than you and Agent Romanoff to take care of, so if you'll excuse me. I'll return shortly. In the meantime you and Romanoff can discuss my brother since, according to my source, there's no mention of him or the…well… _incident_ in your SHIELD file."

Natasha could attest to that fact. She'd never heard of Farus, and SHIELD was usually very thorough. It was odd, to say the least.

Farus continued, glancing her way as the door was unlocked. "Or talk escape plans I suppose, but honestly that would just be a waste of time. Which is something you should probably start appreciating, Stark, since at the moment it's looking like you won't have much of it left." With that he shot her a smirk, which she knew was mostly a warning.

Her vision blurred for a moment, but she caught the sight of two figures moving away and the door closing. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment in an attempt to fight off the drug. She wasn't sure what it was, but its purpose was obviously to incapacitate her without knocking her out completely.

"He gone?"

She heard the question through a fog. It took more will-power than she liked in order to summon the energy to make her vocal cords work.

"Yeah," she answered. She knew Stark would have caught the distorted sound of her voice. A fact that was proven by his next question.

"Still in one piece, Romanoff?"

She shifted in the chair and tried to sit up straighter. Her forcibly lax muscles protested. "I'm fine," she stated, glad that her voice was slightly more clear and steady. "Tell me about Marcus Farus."

Natasha watched the screen and instantly picked up on how Stark tapped his reactor absentmindedly. His eyes were intense, but distant. He didn't want to talk about this, she could tell. Information was vital to these situations though. She needed whatever intel she could get. The better she knew the target, the easier it would be to manipulate him.

"Gossip doesn't suite you," he said after a moment.

"Stark…"

He hesitated, but then shifted into a more comfortable position with his back firmly against the wall. His face was practically unreadable, but that alone told her just what kind of story this was going to be. She ignored the voice in her head that pointed out that if Stark didn't trust her, he wouldn't have been convinced to divulge this information so easily. It was a ridiculous thought anyway. Tony Stark didn't trust her as far as he could throw her. It was a fact, despite what logic and her instincts tried to tell her.

She pushed such mental arguments away and focused on the current situation. Despite the drugs she would do her job and finish the mission. And her current mission was to get Stark out of this alive.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers.

A/N: Bit of a long chapter because I combined two shorter ones. The first part is from Fury's POV and the second half is Stark's POV. Once again, thank you all for reading and reviewing!

* * *

"What's going on?"

Fury turned from the screen showing an unconscious Tony Stark being tossed into the back of a van. The buzz of chatter coming from the Avengers quieted slightly as Barton entered the secure briefing room.

"Welcome back, Agent Barton," Fury said, essentially ending the other conversations in the room. "How'd extraction go?"

"I handed them off to Agents Vex and Lonner," Barton answered.

Banner looked between them, but otherwise no one reacted or asked questions about Barton's mission. There was something more pressing going on at the moment anyway.

"Do we know who took them?" Barton asked, crossing his arms as he joined his fellow Avengers. His eyes locked on the snapshot on the screen. "And where was Stark's suit?"

"I was wondering that too," Fury commented dryly before arching an eyebrow at Banner. Of all the people living in Stark's tower, Dr. Banner seemed the most informed of his fellow genius' actions.

"The Mark VII was damaged during the last mission with the…" He made a strange gesture that Fury could only assume was meant to indicate the cytoplasmic like creatures the Avengers had battled the week before.

"Jelly Creatures," Thor supplied, echoing what Stark had dubbed them at the time.

"Yes," Banner said. "Those. He took the briefcase suit with him."

"The briefcase addition," Fury commented with a sharp nod.

Banner nodded.

"According to Ms. Potts," Rogers began. "Mr. Hogan had it handcuffed to him while Stark was mingling."

"Happy said Tony sent him a message telling him to bring the suit," Banner further explained. "But before he could get there, Tony was gone."

Fury turned back to the screen and crossed his arms. "And Agent Romanoff."

"What was Romanoff doing there?" Barton asked.

Fury ignored the question. Instead he leaned forward to start the video and moved out of the way so the gathered Avengers could watch. "There was a security camera in the back alley. This is what we have."

The grainy video showed a back alley behind the building where the charity gala had been held. A van had been back up so the back doors faced the door leading in and out of the building. Several people stood around the area, and in the midst of them all two men held a struggling brunette woman.

"One of the waitresses working the event," Fury explained without looking away. "She was caught on security footage handing Stark a note."

The video continued, now showing another man holding a gun to the woman's head. A moment later he lowered the gun, only to backhand her across the face. There was no sound to the video, but it was clear the woman had made some kind of pained sound. Fury recognized it for what it was. A bait tactic to lure in Stark.

Sure enough, Stark appeared in the doorway a second later. He took one step out of the building, but didn't get any further. Smoke suddenly swirled around the man, causing him to cough instinctively as he stepped through it. The gas trap had obviously been set-up beforehand. One of the armed men rushed forward to grab Stark, who spun around and landed a punch across his face, but the gas was clearly making it hard for him to breath. He stumbled, and the next second the butt of a gun was slammed against the back of his head. Stark went down to his knees, and another hit with the gun sent him to the ground.

"What about the…." Rogers began.

Fury held up a hand. "Wait for it."

In the video, Stark was picked up by two men and dragged towards the van. The vehicle started to drive off, but suddenly Romanoff appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Guns were instantly trained on her as the van abruptly stopped. Fury could practically see her assessing the situation before tossing her own guns to the ground and raising her hands. There was no hesitation on the abductors' part. They grabbed her, secured her hands behind her back, and then shoved a needle into her arm. By the time she was tossed into the back of the van with Stark she appeared to be unconscious.

As the van drove off the struggling waitress was released. She calmly straightened out her clothing and waited until one of the men handed her an envelope before she walked, just as calmly, back into the building.

"She was involved," Rogers said aloud with a sigh.

"Before any of you ask," Fury began, turning back towards the group once the video stopped. "We already checked with the other event workers. Only one person recognized the woman. Apparently, the employee who was meant to work last night had to be replaced last minute. She…." He gestured to the woman pictured on the screen behind him. "Was a fill-in."

"A plant," Rogers commented.

"What was Romanoff doing there?" Barton asked again, apparently not deterred by the change in conversation.

"We received intel that there was going to be an attempt on Stark's life," Furry informed the man. "Romanoff was available, familiar with Stark, and in the area."

Rogers' frown deepened. "Why weren't the rest of us informed? The three of us were at the tower all day," he added, gesturing to Thor and Banner.

"Agent Romanoff is trained for these situations. She could reach the scene faster than the rest of you. It was a solid choice," he replied, letting some of his aggravation seep into his voice.

"She let herself be taken," Barton announced. "To keep an eye on Stark."

"And now we have no idea where either of them are or who took them," Banner summed up, looking at the frozen video footage with a thoughtful expression. "I'm guessing the license plate didn't lead anywhere?" he asked, moving closer to the screen to get a better look.

"It traced back to a seventy-nine year old woman in Ohio," Fury answered.

"Did she check out?" Barton's blank expression didn't waver as he cracked the joke.

Fury stared back with an unimpressed look. "Yes, Agent Barton, she checked out. Apparently has an obsession with little glass ducks though. Want to go check for yourself?"

Barton just shrugged one shoulder.

"Should we not be searching for our teammates instead of waiting here?" Thor asked, brows furrowed.

"We have agents on it," Fury informed them. Four sets of eyes stared back at him. He'd expected a protest, a declaration of intent to search for themselves instead of leaving it to SHIELD, and their stares conveyed exactly that. He rolled his eye and turned his back on them. "Keep me updated."

He heard the shuffling of feet and the door opened and closed faster than he could count to five. As they left, he caught Hill's reflection in one of the monitors as she entered. "Agent Hill…"

"Definitely a leak, sir," she informed him.

"Who?"

"Still looking."

"Find them. And when you do, bring them to me. And, Hill…" He turned around to face her. "Don't be gentle."

Hill gave a brief nod. "Yes, sir."

* * *

"I met Andy at MIT." Tony shifted against the wall in an effort to get more comfortable. "It was my first semester. I was fifteen, he was eighteen." He hadn't been looking for a friend. High school and life in general had taught him that Starks could afford friends, but he wasn't naïve enough to believe they would hang around if he didn't dish out the funds in extravagant ways. Andy had seemed different though.

"His father was a state senator. Mother was…." He blinked tiredly. "Something with the environment. High profile family, like me. Marcus was four years older than Andy with a degree in chemistry. Smart, but not as smart as me," he added with a smirk.

Romanoff scoffed. "Of course not. What was the incident Farus was talking about?"

His smirk faded after a moment and he launched back into the story. He kept his expression neutral. Romanoff was watching. Anyone could be watching.

" _So, the fundraising gala tonight," Andy began with a mischievous grin. The older teenager threw an arm around his shoulders, and Tony smirked at what he knew was coming. "How about we skip it and grab a pizza or something? My parents won't notice."_

" _You read my mind," Tony replied with a laugh. He didn't think much about Andy steering him down a back alley. They took short-cuts all the time. "I heard there's a new pizza place down on…."_

 _He didn't get to finish the sentence. The arm resting on his shoulders suddenly wrapped around his neck in very unfriendly manner. The arm pressed against his throat and yanked him back while Andy's other hand simultaneously held a damp cloth against his mouth and nose._

 _He recognized the smell._

 _Chloroform._

 _His eyes widened seconds before he lost consciousness, his mind still buzzing restlessly._

The memory flashed through his mind's eyes and brought a bitter anger with it. "My good friend Andy sold me out. Literally," he added quickly with a mock amusement. "He sold me to a group of idiots who wanted to use me against Howard. Ransom or weapons or whatever they could get their hands on. Kidnappers are never very original in my experience. It didn't work out the way they planned, obviously. Never saw Andy again, or Marcus. Until now."

Romanoff didn't comment right away, and for a minute he thought she might have actually fallen asleep on him or succumbed to the drugs. Then, however, she spoke. "Why isn't it in your SHIELD file?"

There were a few options on how to answer that. He blamed the concussion for why the truth slipped out. "Howard refused to pay the ransom. He also didn't contact the police, and apparently not SHIELD either. I escaped in under twenty-four hours, so no one noticed I was gone and the bruises were easily covered."

"Was Farus' life being threatened?" Romanoff asked.

"You mean did he have a reasonable excuse for selling me out?"

 _Tony tugged against the ropes binding his hands behind the chair so hard that the chair itself nearly toppled over. If his feet weren't restrained to the chair legs this wouldn't be such a big deal. As it was he didn't have use of his hands or his feet and he was starting to get dehydrated. He also had a physics exam tomorrow that he really shouldn't miss. So really, this little 'kidnap the rich kid' game needed to end soon._

 _He muttered under his breath while once again trying to pry his hands free, but that was when the metal door started to open. He rolled his eyes before it was even fully open. "I told you. Howard isn't going to give you anything."_

" _Yeah, he'll probably be more upset if they don't kill you. Right, Tony?"_

 _Tony froze and his eyes widened as Andy walked into the room. His hands were shoved into his suit pockets and he looked as casual as if they were at the gala. No one was chasing him, there were no restraints in sight, and he was unharmed. Tony's blood ran cold at the sight as realization washed over him._

 _He'd made excuses up until this point. Andy must have had a good reason after all, right? But no. Now he knew for sure._

" _What the…." He glared at the older teenager and clenched his fists. "What could you possibly be getting out of this? Money?" Andy didn't need money though, a little voice in his head pointed out._

" _About sums it up," Any answered with a friendly smile. "$1500 to be exact."_

 _Fifteen-hundred dollars for his life? That's what he was worth? That was practically a penny compared to what the Farus family had or what the Stark's bankroll looked like. Tony's jaw clenched at the thought._

 _Betrayal seriously sucked._

" _Honestly though, Tony…." Andy placed a hand on his shoulder with a smirk. "I would have done it for five bucks."_

 _Well. Ouch._

" _See you later, buddy," Andy said, ruffling Tony's hair as he went to leave. "Or…well…probably not I guess." A chuckle was the last thing Tony heard before the door was slammed shut. It was only later that he realized he'd been too shocked to get a good retort out._

"No," Tony answered stiffly. "No threat. He was just a jerk."

Like Obadiah, Tony thought to himself. Just another wolf in sheep's clothing. Another friend who stabbed him in the back. Someone else who deemed him only worth having around if they could get something out of him.

And people wondered why he had such gigantic trust issues.

" _I know guys with none of that worth ten of you_."

It wouldn't be very hard to find someone worth ten of him if he was only worth 1,500 dollars. Or five bucks. The ironic thing was, Tony was pretty sure Rogers would include Howard as one of those great people who was worth more than him.

"Friends are overrated anyway. Right, Romanoff?" He closed his eyes and let his muscles relax for a moment. He was tired and ached all over. The allure of sleep was pretty tempting.

"You probably have a head injury, Stark. You should try to stay awake a little longer."

"I'm just going to inspect the inside of my eyelids."

"That doesn't make sense."

Tony rolled his eyes. "I understand having to explain my references to Thor, occasionally Rogers, but really Romanoff?"

"Explain it to me."

She was just trying to keep him awake. It was obvious since he knew she wouldn't normally care one way or the other. He had nothing better to do though, and maybe his detailed explanations of the cultural phenomena known as _M*A*S*H_ would irritate anyone else listening. So a win-win for him.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything belonging to Marvel. I'll let you know if that changes.

A/N: Have I mentioned that you guys are great? Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! Here we have a Romanoff POV chapter with some Stark torture.

* * *

Natasha stared at the video feed, her face carefully blank. Farus sat on a chair in the corner that had been brought in for him. He was too far away for her to attack, but still visible in her peripheral vision. He tapped away on a tablet, apparently uncaring about the sounds occasionally coming over the intercom or the images on the screen.

Not that she was surprised. If he was squeamish he wouldn't have bothered abducting them in the first place. The drug she couldn't identify also made sense. As a chemist, Farus had access to various chemicals and had probably concocted his own drugs. According to Stark, Andy Farus had once told him how his older brother liked to experiment quite often.

Stark was being used as a carving board at the moment. Long red slashes crisscrossed across his back. A few cuts on his front. Nothing deep enough to kill him, but enough to cause quite a bit of pain and some blood loss.

Her fingers curled around the arms of the chair as one of the men in Stark's room reached down and snapped the arc reactor out of the engineer's chest with an audible twist and click. Stark's face tensed, his eyes going distant as his energy seeped out of him and he was forced to flop back down onto his battered back.

His faced darkened in a way it hadn't up to this point. It was the look of a man who knew he was on the verge of death, but refused to show his desperation or fear. He knew it was coming, and was accepting it with bitterness and dignity.

The reactor was shoved unceremoniously back into his chest, but not twisted back into place. Stark's shaking hand clumsily moved to the arc reactor and with a flash of desperation in his eyes he twisted the device into place. A visible shudder ripped through his body as the reactor gave him a little shock as it once again began keeping the shrapnel at bay.

Farus chuckled from the corner. "How many times do you think he can survive having the arc reactor removed, Romanoff? Scientifically speaking, of course."

Natasha didn't look his way, and gave him no response.

"If the shrapnel moves a little closer to his heart each time, then how many times will it take before not even the reactor can keep him alive?"

"Your plan is failing," she stated calmly even as one of the guards held Stark down while another twisted and yanked the arc reactor from the casing all over again. "Stark won't give you anything, and neither will I. You picked the wrong people to get information out of."

Stark was going to die at this rate though. Too much stress was being placed on his heart. She had to do _something_. It was time to act.

She placed herself into the correct headspace, forcing herself to feel and to display emotion. Her chest hitched visibly, her eyes widened, and her hands clutched at the arms of the chair desperately.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Farus glance over at her.

As she allowed a little moisture to gather in her eyes she subtly watched Stark. The reactor was tossed onto his chest callously. He grasped the reactor in stiff fingers, his chest heaving unevenly. With rigid, jerky movements he awkwardly shoved the reactor back into its casing and twisted again. She watched with hidden relief as his body jerked when he was finally able to take a deep breath. He turned onto his side, one hand pressed firmly against the reactor, and breathed heavily. She could practically _hear_ the strain it was taking.

"Maybe you're right, Agent Romanoff." Farus stood slowly and adjusted the suit coat that he was wearing. He didn't seem to be buying her act, which was just another indication of how much he apparently knew about them. The tears dried up instantly upon realizing his lack of concern with her apparent panic.

Natasha forced herself to continue staring at the video feed. The reactor had been returned, but Stark was still breathing erratically. His struggle just to breath was obvious. If she could, she would tell him to calm his breathing, to take steady breaths while he could. But even if the intercom wasn't muted on his end, she wouldn't give Farus the satisfaction of allowing him to see that kind of reaction.

"I guess it's time to take a different approach," Farus continued. He smiled warmly in her direction, tapped his tablet a few times, opened the door, and gestured to the guard outside.

She glanced at the video feed and noticed the guard who had been standing by Stark's door looking at a small tablet of his own, probably receiving Farus' message. The guard told the others to leave Stark alone, and they all moved to stand in front of the door, leaving Stark laying on his side with one arm tucked over the reactor protectively.

Farus moved to stand in front of her. She could still see Stark on the video feed over his shoulder. The gun pointed at her head took her attention for the moment though. He stood a couple of feet away, so she couldn't reach out and disarm him even if her hands and feet were freed. It was still plenty close enough for him to hit his target without much effort.

He seemed to be at ease with the weapon as well. He knew how to handle it, and wouldn't flinch if he needed to actually shoot her.

"This is the part where you scream, Agent Romanoff," he informed her, his voice low, leading her to believe he had unmuted Stark's intercom.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"If that's the way you feel about it." He lowered the gun and walked around to the back of her chair.

His tablet appeared several inches from her face a few seconds later. It was a digital version of Stark's room, judging by the inscription along the top with Stark's name on it. It gave nothing of use away. No real information that could aid in their escape. What she did see, however, were slits in the walls that Farus had circled to draw her attention. There was a slit at the top of each wall, near the ceiling, and narrow enough that they were probably barely noticeable in person. Her gaze flickered to the walls around her without turning her head. She couldn't see any in this room, but that didn't mean they weren't there and as carefully hidden as they were in Stark's room.

"Specially designed vents," he whispered close to her ear. "They allow air into the room. They can also allow gases into the room. Some of my own creation. All I have to do is tap one vent, and toxic gas will flood Stark's room. All four vents are capable of releasing the chemical, but it will only take one to kill Stark in fifteen seconds flat. He will die, Agent Romanoff." His thumb moved to hover over one of the digital vents. "He will die, and his blood will be on your hands. I'm not asking you to tell me anything. Just _scream_. And make it sound painful."

Her eyes went to the video monitor on the opposite wall. The guards had left at some point. Stark was alone and going in and out of consciousness. His chest was bruised and blooded. He might not even hear her scream in his current condition.

But if she didn't scream, Farus may very well kill him. She couldn't get a solid enough read on the man to decide if he would or not. Was he capable? Yes. Would killing Stark bother him? No. Would it interfere with his plans? Of that she couldn't be sure. This was well thought out, but yet erratic. It wasn't logical, and yet done logically. He was almost as much of a contradiction as Stark was.

"No one outside of this room, and Stark's room, will know," Farus whispered again, his warm breath ghosting over her ear. His thumb lowered closer to the tablet's screen.

She had to make a choice.

Could she risk Stark's life? She would be playing into Farus' hands, but nothing of consequence would be lost at the moment. Except Stark's life, if she refused.

She gave a subtle nod to let Farus know she would comply. His thumb moved away from the screen.

"Make it sound good," he reminded her quietly. "Make both of us believe it. Or my finger might slip," he added before straightening and moving further away from her.

She was a spy. An actress. Even Stark had acknowledged her skill.

The barrel of a gun tapped against her shoulder to let her know it was time.

Her expression didn't change, but the pained scream that came out of her mouth sounded real even to herself.

On the video feed Natasha watched as Stark's eyes popped opened and he pushed himself up, looking confused for a moment until dawning realization crossed his face. His carefully controlled features slipped back into place, but his eyes said it all.

"Again," Farus hissed quietly, tapping her on the shoulder again.

She hesitated, but did as he said. It was for Stark's own good, she reminded herself. She wasn't going to have a teammate's blood on her hands if she could help it. There was already enough red in her ledger.

By the time her scream faded Stark was on his feet. "Marcus!" he snapped, his voice low and almost threatening.

Maybe she was _too_ good of an actress.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I still don't own the Avengers.

A/N: I'm so sorry that this chapter took so long! The busy holiday season has officially caught up with me. Plus a portion of this chapter was missing, so I had to fix it. Just so you know, chapters might be posted a little slower for the next few weeks, but we'll see how things go. Anyway, here's a chapter from Tony's POV. I hope you like it!

* * *

Romanoff might as well be an actress, Stark reminded himself. She could make any sound she wanted to, make others believe it, and not actually feel it. The screaming could be a fake. A ruse to get a rise out of him.

As another agonized scream filtered over the intercom and filled the room, however, Stark felt his heart pound a little harder. Adrenaline kept him standing at this point. If he could just _see_ Romanoff, so he would know one way or the other.

She was drugged. Her inhibitions could be lowered. Her pain tolerance could be altered by the drugs in her system.

' _Everyone has a breaking point_.'

Farus' comment rushed through his mind. Romanoff…drugged….she was human….

One hand clenched into a fist at his side until his dull fingernails dug into his own flesh.

Tony changed his mind. Not seeing wasn't as worse as not seeing _and_ still hearing.

This made very little sense. Farus' plan was convoluted. Unless this really was personal. A mixture of both maybe. Why he couldn't fathom. He'd been the one betrayed, not Andy. He'd never even seen Andy again after that day.

"What exactly do you think you're going to get out of this, Marcus?" he asked as Romanoff's fourth scream faded. It had sounded weaker then ones before it, as if she were losing steam.

"Everything, Stark. Everything." There was a scraping sound, like the door on the other end of the intercom being opened. "Enough for now. Take a break you two. And Stark, sit down before you fall over. Falling just…wouldn't be very dignified. I doubt Howard would approve." There was an edge of laughter in the other man's voice. He _knew_ that those words would sting. Andy must have told his brother things which Tony himself had told very few people over the years.

He waited until the sound of the door closed over the intercom and then waited a little longer before finding a wall and using it to steady himself as he sat down against it. Now that the adrenaline was fading his head was once again throbbing and his chest felt like the Hulk was sitting on him. At least he knew why they'd taken his shirt. It had made things much easier for them, he was sure.

He absentmindedly tapped his reactor, as if even his subconscious needed the reassurance now. He shifted his leg with a grimace as he was reminded of the knife wound in his lower leg. It didn't hurt as much anymore, especially in comparison to his torso, and it had long since stopped bleeding, but now that he was sitting still without the goonies around he could feel _everything_.

"Ouch," he deadpanned, mostly for Romanoff's entertainment. He wasn't sure what condition the spy was in now and, as much as he hated to admit it, it was possible he was actually worried. The screams he had heard had been so _real_. So full of actual pain that it had hurt just to listen to. Had they been fake? Possibly. Could Romanoff pull it off? Very likely. But Tony was pretty sure that those kinds of screams, ones so hauntingly painful, couldn't have been made by someone who hadn't felt that level of pain at least at some point in their lives.

When there was no reply or comment from the spy Tony's concern intensified. He told himself that it wasn't his fault, that Marcus was just an intelligent psychopath who would have used him for bait one way or another and if not him than someone else. He told himself that Romanoff would be fine.

He pressed a hand to the reactor when a stabbing pain shot through his chest. It had felt as if it had come from the center of his chest, right about where the reactor sat.

Yeah, that probably wasn't good.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. "Still there, Romanoff?" He kept his tone light and nonchalant. No point in ruining his reputation, after all.

"What do you think, Stark?"

She sounded tired, but mostly her voice was just…calm. Oddly gentle while at the same time remaining distant. He couldn't really infer what that was supposed to mean. At least he knew she was alive though, and that she was coherent. Asking if she was alright would just get him the standard answer of 'yes' or a complete brush off, so he didn't bother.

"I think you're getting disgustingly sentimental on me. Not that I blame you. I'm loveable really."

"Only in your dreams."

"I tend to have vivid dreams." He smirked, but the amusement fading quickly as his thoughts began to wonder.

He thought about the projects he was in the middle of. The meeting that Pepper had reminded him about every day for the last week or so. The upgrades to Barton's arrows. Eventually his thoughts circled back around to Andy and betrayal and a sadistic brother, which led directly back to Romanoff and his lingering concern.

He knew that neither he nor Romanoff were very well connected with their emotions, and both had a high pain tolerance, but that didn't mean they were unbreakable and it didn't mean they didn't feel at all. As much as he loathed dealing with emotions, he couldn't deny that they existed. And Romanoff was no different in that aspect.

Unlike the rest of the Avengers, however, Romanoff kept her emotions in check. She hid them away, ignored them, and did her job. He could respect that. What was more, he could understand it. When he had first discovered she was a spy, and after the initial sting of betrayal and automatic distrust, she had intrigued him. He'd been weary of her, but intrigued.

What he knew now, after working with her the last several months, was that Romanoff was indeed human. She could be hurt. It wouldn't be easy, but it was possible. Which meant his concern was justified. He was _not_ being sentimental. He was just….cautiously worried in only the most logical ways considering the situation.

"I have a concussion." He hadn't realized he'd said that particular thought aloud until he heard his own voice echo across the room. He opened his eyes and blinked confusedly.

Definitely a concussion. He wouldn't waste time thinking the things he'd been thinking otherwise. It wouldn't be so hard to concentrate either.

"I figured that," Romanoff replied back. "Get some sleep."

He rolled his eyes. "First you want me to stay awake and now you're telling me to sleep. Make up your mind, Romanoff."

He understood really. At this point the pros of sleeping outweighed the cons. His body needed time to recover, especially since they didn't know what was coming their way next. He slowly lowered himself to the ground, wincing only slightly when his sliced-up back touched the rough texture of the concrete.

His thoughts once again jumped all over the place until the image of Andy flashed through his mind's eye. Andy and Marcus, but Andy was dead. He didn't know how, and wasn't sure he cared. But Marcus probably cared.

Maybe that was the real reason behind all of this. Or maybe there was no reason. Maybe Marcus was just a sick, sadistic jackass.

"If I could get my hands on one of those tablets…," he said aloud as he felt himself drifting off to sleep.

"Rest, Stark," Romanoff said.

He thought she might have spoken in the same gentle tone as earlier, but quickly decided his mind was just playing tricks on him. It was probably just the concussion.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Do I need to say it again?

A/N: I'll probably only get one more chapter posted before Christmas, so there will likely be a week or so without an update, but this fic is completely written, so when the holidays are over I'll be back to posting normally. This chapter contains two parts. The first is a little look into what the rest of the team is doing, and the second half is back to Tony.

* * *

"Doc?"

Bruce looked up from the computer as Clint entered. "Where are the others?"

"Talking to Pepper. What did you find?" the archer asked.

"I thought it was a little odd that the woman in Ohio didn't file a report about the missing license plate," he began. "So JARVIS got me access to her background."

Clint crossed his arms with a little half-smirk on his face. "You hacked?"

"No, JARVIS did."

"You've spent way too much time around Stark. He's a bad influence on you."

Bruce arched an eyebrow as if to say 'and you're not?', but didn't comment further. He turned the computer screen towards the other man instead. "I don't think the license plate was stolen."

"Are you telling me the little old lady really is involved?"

Bruce rolled his eyes. "No. Well, not directly. She probably thinks it was a mistake or something. Look…." He peered around the computer screen and pointed to the names listed under relatives. "She had a daughter."

Clint leaned forward to get a better look. "Says the daughter died in a car crash."

"Not before getting engaged."

"That's nice," Clint replied, obviously not too impressed. "What does this have to do with Nat and Stark?"

"She was engaged to someone named Alvin Larres," Bruce continued. "Here's the thing though, Alvin Larres barely has any history before the age of twenty-one. Barely any hospital records, no speeding tickets, no living relatives. So I had JARVIS use his driver's license and run a facial recognition program of Tony's own design. Look…."

He tapped the screen and a side-by-side comparison of Larres and a teenager appeared. The eighteen year old and the photo from the driver's license didn't look that much alike at first glance.

"Okay…." Clint drawled.

"JARVIS noticed these marks." He indicated two small scars on the driver's license photo, one by the man's nose and another just under his ear. "Surgical scars. JARVIS reconstructed what Larres may have looked like before. JARVIS?"

The photo immediately morphed into someone else. The individual changes weren't overly drastic, but when added together they made a big difference. Tighter skin in places, puffier cheeks, smaller nose, and larger ears.

"Now if we assume he's wearing contacts…." The brown eyes in the photo changed to blue, and suddenly the man in the driver's license photo could definitely be an older version of the teenager.

"Okay." Clint nodded, looking a little more serious. "So who is he?"

"Alvin Larres is currently running for senator," Bruce answered. "Andrew Farus, the kid in the photo, attended MIT before he just dropped off the radar. JARVIS says he and Tony were in a couple of classes together."

"That's….a bit of a coincidence," Clint agreed.

"Or not a coincidence."

"What would a former classmate, and possible politician, want with Stark though?"

Bruce didn't answer. It wasn't a secret that Tony had some enemies. There were a lot of military and political officials who would probably turn a blind eye on Tony's untimely death. His thoughts apparently came across without him having to say it aloud.

"Never mind," Clint said. "Stupid question."

Bruce nodded and turned to another monitor. "The problem is that Larres has been on tour all week. He's been seen and caught on camera in public the entire time."

"So he had someone else do his dirty work."

Bruce hesitated. "Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"There's no proof of any of this," he pointed out, gesturing vaguely to the information on the monitors around them. "It's mostly circumstantial. Alvin Larres has a birth certificate. In his file it says he went to a small high school in Nebraska."

Clint nodded thoughtfully. "But did he really _go_ there?"

"No way to find out. The school was destroyed in a tornado, and they didn't have everything backed-up on a computer. All their records were lost."

"That's convenient," the archer commented sarcastically. He stared at the side-by-side comparison with a darkened expression. "Can't really go accusing a possible future senator of abducting Tony Stark though," he muttered.

Bruce nodded. "Maybe if we tell Fury, then he can…."

"Gentlemen," JARVIS suddenly said. "If I might interrupt."

"Go ahead, JARVIS," Bruce replied.

"Further research has led me to discover that Andrew Farus has one living relative. A brother by the name of Marcus Farus." A picture and brief background appeared on the screen, replacing the side-by-side comparison. "A chemist who currently owns several research organizations. He has labs in three different countries, not including the ones in the United States."

"A chemist…" Bruce put his glasses back on and quickly read through the information. "The gas that knocked Tony out…"

"Where is he currently, JARVIS?" Clint asked.

"Unknown."

"Where are the labs located exactly?"

A map appeared on the monitor with several red dots scattered across the globe. "Marcus Farus also owns three buildings which are not currently in use." JARVIS' statement was followed by three more dots appearing on the map.

"That's a lot of ground to cover," Bruce said, mostly to himself.

"Let's tell the others and get started." Clint was already half-way to the door. "Thanks, JARVIS."

"Of course, Mr. Barton. I hope you recover them soon."

"We do too, JARVIS," Bruce muttered as he grabbed a Stark pad and followed Clint out of the lab.

* * *

"Thanks for the bathroom, guys, but you could really use some paper towels or something in there…."

"Do you ever shut-up, Stark?" one of the goonies asked as they shoved him back into his room.

"Not really." His vision blurred for a moment, but once his equilibrium balanced back out he realized there was a new addition to the room. He'd only been gone a few minutes, just long enough for them to escort him to a small bathroom down the hall so he could 'relieve' himself, but in the meantime they had moved a chair into the room.

His was pushed and shoved forward until he was sitting in the chair, and only then did they remove the handcuffs around his wrists. Godzilla remained in the doorway with his gun ready and waiting, just in case.

"What's the game plan now?" he asked, but the two goonies were already moving out of the room. Godzilla stepped inside, and was followed by Marcus. It was only the second time he'd seen Farus in person since being here, now that he knew who the man was, he wondered how he had missed the resemblance to Andy the first time around.

The man walked over to him, apparently uncaring about the fact he wasn't restrained since Godzilla was standing nearby with a gun. "So, Stark, you think Agent Romanoff will keep your secrets?"

Tony rolled his eyes upwards. So this was Marcus' next attempt at cracking Tony Stark, huh? Shame. He was starting to think Farus had a future in kidnapping. "What part of 'spy' did you not understand?"

"She was trained to do a job, Tony. A job she considers more important than your continued existence. If she believes that revealing a few Stark Industries secrets will allow her to protect SHIELD, she _will_ do so regardless of whatever friendship you imagine the two of you have." Farus walked around the room nonchalantly, as if he were just taking a walk in the park. "And your other Avenger teammates? They're not here, are they? You know what they think about you, Stark. Don't kid yourself. We've all seen the news coverage of the great Tony Stark. What are you to the Avengers? A bank account?"

Tony crossed his arms and ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head that pointed out the logic of what Farus was saying.

Marcus chuckled and patted his shoulder in passing on his way to the door. "Your best friend sold you for less than two thousand dollars, Tony. Just think about that."

With that Farus was gone, leaving Tony to wonder exactly what the point of that little speech was all about. As it turned out, he didn't have to wait long. A thick white gas began filling the room at an alarming rate. He covered his mouth and nose in an attempt to keep it out of his lungs, but the smoke persisted. It enveloped him completely, and eventually he couldn't hold his breath any longer.

The room around him transformed. Shapes and colors swirled around him until everything settled again. No more gas. No more haze. He tried to figure out where he was, but his mind was as blurry as his vision had been earlier.

"Shh, Tony, it's okay."

Tony blinked sluggishly and tried to concentrate. "Pepper?"

The beautiful redhead smiled warmly at him. No one smiled at him like Pepper did. He glanced past her and realized they were at his house in Malibu. He was half-sitting on the medical recliner in the lab, his shirt gone, and with wires attached to his chest to keep track of his heartrate.

The arc reactor glowed from the center of his chest, but it wasn't sitting properly in its casing, he realized. He frowned as panic started to set in. The reactor was out too far, only the wires held it in place. As if to confirm his suspicions the blue light flickered.

"I'm sorry, Tony." Pepper's small hand rested just beneath the reactor. "I can't…" Her fond smile fell away as she looked at the reactor. In its place was a look of disgust. "I can't do this." Her hand left his chest, leaving a cold spot where there'd once been warmth.

She backed away, and the reactor slipped from its housing as if wanting to follow.

"Pepper?" What had he done this time? How had he hurt her? He couldn't remember what was going on or what he'd done, but it must have been bad. "Don't go. You know me, Pep. I…" He sat up further and started to follow her, but the computer behind him suddenly started beeping frantically at the same time as his lungs started to burn. "Pe-pper…"

She looked at him sadly as if actually _pitying_ him. "I'm sorry, Tony. I can't do this again." Her eyes fell on the reactor once more before she turned and walked away.

Tony glanced down at the reactor and pushed it back into place, but the light flickered again and the computer's alarm persisted. He felt his heart beat erratically, pounding against his chest as if in warning.

There was a loose connection, he realized.

But he knew how this worked. His hand wouldn't fit far enough into the casing. And Pepper…

Pepper had left.

His breath hitched painfully. His lungs burned as they tried and failed to draw in air. "Pe-Pepper. JARVIS?"

There was no answer.

The room spun out of focus and he knew he must be losing consciousness, or dying. But when everything stilled again he was no longer in Malibu or his lab. The concrete walls were back. Pepper was gone, but not because she'd left. She'd just never been there.

Tony's mind gradually cleared and, once he was able to think clearly, he remembered the smoke. The gas must have been a hallucinogen. Something that left him susceptible to the power of suggestion as well, he thought.

Yeah, this wasn't good.

"Back with us, Tony?" Farus' voice filtered into the room via the intercom, and the presences of muffled static made Tony think the man was communicating from somewhere other than Romanoff's room.

"Didn't know I left," he commented lightly even while his mind buzzed with ramifications of what the new tactic could mean.

"Sure you don't want to reconsider your current position? A few words about SHIELD. A password or two. And then this can all be over."

Tony's thoughts flashed back to his imprisonment in Afghanistan. To a promise of freedom in exchange for weapons. He'd known it was a lie back then.

It was the same this time, and Tony knew it. The promise of freedom and life was always an empty promise. Farus was barely even trying. He wasn't going to play along like a nice little puppet on a string either way.

"You're a terrible liar, Marcus. Don't quit your day job," he answered.

"Have it your way, Stark."

Silence followed, but it didn't last. Smoke filled the room, and another hallucination began.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own the Avengers.

A/N: One more chapter before Christmas, as promised. I won't be able to post anything for a week or so now, but I'll be back with a big chapter. There's also a small unrelated oneshot I'm going to post for the holidays. So, I hope you all enjoy this chapter and have a wonderful holiday! As always, thank you so much for reading, reviewing, and adding to alerts/favorites!

* * *

Natasha glared at the guard who ripped the sack from over her head. Her hands were unchained from behind her back and a second later she was pushed back into the chair. The guards wasted no time in restraining her to the chair once again. They were fast and well-practiced. Within a matter of seconds her wrists and ankles were secured to the chair.

The trip to the bathroom had been just as well-practiced, despite her efforts to slow them down so she could take stock of her surroundings and directions. There had been three steps up at one point and the way their footsteps had echoed down the hallway had spoken of the lack of windows or furniture. They'd kept her under guard the entire time, even after reaching the bathroom. They were well armed as well, and their astute observations had made it further inadvisable to make a break for it.

An opening for escape would be provided, she knew. It always was. The trick was to wait for it and not jump into a mess that may or may not get Stark killed before she could reach him. She looked to the video feed, but the screen was still blank. After they had taken Stark out of the room, presumably for the same reason she had been taken out, both audio and visual feeds had been cut. After a few minutes they had come for her, but apparently they weren't ready to let her see the other room yet.

The inability to see Stark was beginning to concern her though. At least before she had been able to keep track of him. She had felt some level of control over the situation, but now she was simply a prisoner restrained to a chair and with no way of analyzing the full situation.

"Agent Romanoff," Farus said in greeting as he finally entered the room. He typed away on his tablet and by the time he stopped in front of her the screen behind him flickered on to reveal Stark.

There was a chair in his room now, turned so it was angled slightly away from the camera, and he was in it. There was also a slight mist around him, but she could still see him clearly enough. His eyes were distant and glossy. His face dark and tense. He seemed to be speaking with someone, but without the audio turned on she couldn't make out what he was saying. He was definitely speaking with someone though. Someone she couldn't see.

"One of my own creations," Farus explained, turning sideways so he could look at the feed as well. "A powerful hallucinogen. Probably one of the most powerful ever created. The unique property of it isn't its strength though. It makes the person open to suggestions. In other words, I can manipulate what he hallucinates to an extent. It also works well in….loosening someone's tongue, so to speak."

Romanoff kept her eyes locked on the screen as the consequences of such a drug sank in. She herself had been trained to either be immune, or to work around, various common drugs. Her system wouldn't be accustomed to these though, and Stark wouldn't have had a reason to build a tolerance to any.

Farus walked around her chair, his eyes glued to the tablet in his hands. "A person can get lost in the hallucination. It _feels_ real. The sounds, the smells…..everything. It might as well _be_ real. It's amazing what the human brain is capable of, and yet how easily it can be tricked."

Natasha listened to his speech and filed everything he said away in case it was needed, but mostly she tried to think through ways out of the situation. Her head had started to clear of the drug induced fog on the way back from the bathroom. And so, as Farus spoke, she was able to mentally concoct two possible escape plans. Neither would be full proof, and if she had more information on their current location it would make things easier and less risky, but if it came down to it she could….

Rational thought ceased almost immediately when she felt a pair of hands grab her face from behind and yank her head backwards. Soon another set of hands held her face from the front, keeping her from moving. Farus smiled above her and she instantly closed her eyes upon seeing the eye dropper coming closer to her.

Despite her efforts, however, her eyes were forcibly pried open and one drop of milky white liquid was dropped into her right eye, then the left. She was released after a few seconds and immediately began forcing tears to build up in an effort to wash out the substance. It was too late though. She could feel the haze returning while her eyes burned as if on fire.

"It's alright, Agent Romanoff," a voice soothed.

Farus, her sluggish brain eventually provided.

"What…was that," she managed to get out as the burning slowly ebbed away. As the pain faded her mind seemed to clear as well. Only it wasn't her normal clarity. It was…enhanced. She felt as though she could see everything.

"Stark _will_ talk, Romanoff," Farus stated. "Do you honestly believe that Tony Stark, of all people, would risk his life to keep your secrets? Do you think he would trust you to keep his? It would be to his advantage to talk. And with my drug being inhaled over and over? It won't be long before he breaks."

She trusted Tony Stark to be Tony Stark. She trusted him to do what was necessary.

He was the one who didn't trust her.

' _I betrayed him_ ,' she thought to herself. Voices and colors and shapes mixed and mingled to the point of sensory overload.

She'd spied on him. Injected him with medication without his permission. The fact she had done so to save his life was inconsequential when it came to trust. He had no reason to trust her, and she wouldn't expect him to. Not after all the other betrayals he'd experienced.

She trusted him, but _should_ she? Trust was dangerous. Anyone could stab her in the back at any time. She looked up at the image on the screen. Stark was looking around the room and holding a hand over his reactor. His chest was rising and falling in an erratic fashion. Dried blood was smeared across his bruised torso.

He would break.

"Who do you think told us about you, Romanoff? Who had access to that information?"

A list of people flashed through her overactive mind in quick succession. Tony Stark was at the top of the list. Because Tony Stark could get access to anything he wanted, couldn't he?

' _No, Stark wouldn't do that,_ ' she told herself. He was here too. A prisoner as much as she was.

But what if Farus had been controlling Stark all this time? Like Clint and Loki. It was all just a clever plot. One way or another, whether from the beginning or just now, Stark was under Farus' control. He was a threat.

Suddenly everything made sense.

Tony Stark was a threat.

Threats had to be neutralized.

She had to neutralize the threat. Therefore, she had to take out Tony Stark.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Nope, Marvel still isn't mine.

A/N: I'm back! Sorry I disappeared for so long, but here's a long chapter to make up for it. I'm not completely happy with this chapter, but I hope it isn't too bad. Thank you all so much for the great reviews and for adding this story to alerts/favorites! I should hopefully get back into a more regular posting schedule now that the holidays are nearly over.

* * *

Bruce held the arc reactor in one hand, his glasses in another, as he studied the device with the methodical eye of a genius scientist. He obviously felt no need to make his examination quick.

"Bruce, you about done with that?" Tony asked, feigning indifference.

Bruce didn't seem to hear him. He held the reactor up to get a better look at it, and turned away as if to leave.

"Bruce?"

The doctor disappeared, and the burning in his chest started.

Tony gasped and pressed a hand to his chest as his surroundings morphed back into the bleak grey room he was being held in.

"Decorations," he breathed heavily. "Haven't gotten any better."

"I have a feeling you'll love them soon enough," a voice said, its owner nowhere to be seen.

He couldn't quite remember how many hallucinations he'd had now or how long had passed. He was never given much of a break between them, and everything just seemed to blend together now.

Before he could really get his bearings, a cloudy gas once again filled the room, obstructing his view. He tried to hold his breath, but just like the times before the smoke persisted until his vision started to blur. Once his vision returned the gas began to dissipate. As the smoke cleared he found himself sitting on the sofa in the communal room of the tower. For a brief moment he felt relieved at the sight.

"Happy now, Stark?"

Tony craned his neck around to see Steve advancing on him, in full Captain America garb. "Not really."

"Just had to do it your way, didn't you?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "My way is usually the best, so…." He felt himself being pulled into the scene despite his best efforts. The more he resisted, the more lightheaded he became.

Rodgers' stare hardened. "Stop pretending to be a hero, Stark."

"This seems repetitive."

"You know what?" Steve loomed over him for a moment before shoving him back against the sofa. "A horrible privilege? You don't deserve it."

Tony tried to get up, but the super soldier held him down with an arm pressed against his neck. With his free hand, Rogers ripped his dress shirt open, twisted the arc reactor, and forcibly pulled it out. Steve continued to hold him to the sofa while holding the reactor just out of reach.

Tony's eyes widened as his jaw clenched. He reached out for the reactor while trying to pry Rogers' arm away from his throat. A knee to his abdomen cut off his attempt and made breathing significantly harder. "Cap," he tried as his chest tightened painfully.

Steve moved away, the arc reactor clutched firmly in his hand. Tony tried to stand, but his legs gave out on him. His muscles weren't getting enough oxygen. The shrapnel was moving closer and closer to his heart. He could _feel_ it.

His friend had just ripped out the thing keeping him alive.

Steve had…

His chest suddenly exploded with a sharp, constricting pain. He knew what a cardiac arrest felt like at this point.

The betrayal was still the worst though. Staring into Steve's angry eyes, with no real idea of _why_ this was happening….

A shuttering gasp tore through him as the room blurred and Tony was thrown back into the real world. Or was it the real world? What was real anymore? The anger in Steve's eyes had felt more real than the empty room around him. Maybe _this_ was the hallucination. A dream he couldn't wake up from.

Tony shifted, which led to a grimace of pain when his back rubbed against the rough texture of the chair. It was easier to breath now, but his chest still ached in a way that he didn't think was related to the broken rib or various bruises. The skin around one of the gashes on his abdomen was a little warm to the touch as well, he noted. Probably not the best sign.

He was still catching his breath when the door opened. There were several things he would have expected to see. Marcus being at the top of the list with the goonies and Godzilla a close second. What he didn't expect was Romanoff.

There was a burlap sack over her head – and really, how cliché was that? – her hands were restrained behind her back and the two guards held onto each of her arms with another guard behind them wielding a gun. Not that that they were paranoid or anything.

Tony stood up, ignoring the violent protest his side made as he did so, and waited to see what was about to happen. It couldn't be good, considering the far-too-condescending look one of the guards was shooting him.

"So…what? We're condensing prisoners now?" he asked as the bag was removed from over Romanoff's head. Her eyes flickered around the room and then landed on him in a way that made his skin crawl. He knew the look. That was the Black Window's predatory look. The look she got when honing in on a target.

The guards were already shuffling back out of the door before the restraints around her wrist were even completely unlocked. As soon as they were finished and Romanoff was free they disappeared from the room.

This was definitely not good.

He took a closer look at the assassin, who was still staring at him, and noticed the slight glaze over her eyes. He thought they might also be dilated, but it was hard to tell in the lighting. "Romanoff?"

The only response he received was a black and red blur before a fist slammed into the side of his face. He managed to duck out of the way of the second and placed himself behind the chair, so it was between the two of them. "So you _are_ upset I got us into this? Let's try to talk this out, Romano…"

A spin kick knocked the chair away and forced him to take an unsteady step backwards. His head throbbed with the sudden movements, and a stabbing pain shot through his side. He blocked another punch aimed at his head, but her other fist collided with his stomach at the same time. He barely had time to recover before his legs were kicked out from under him. His head hit the ground hard enough to make his vision swim out of focus and nausea twist his stomach.

By the time his head and vision cleared, Romanoff's hands were around his neck and a knee was pressed into his abdomen. For hands so small, they were a lot stronger than appearances would have led anyone to believe.

He tried to pry them away, but the lack of oxygen made it hard to focus. "Not…funny….Romanoff," he managed to gasp out.

She only tightened her hold.

Blackness was encroaching on his vision by the time his brain kicked in. He used his arms to knock her elbows down, loosening her grip enough that he was able to roll out from under her. He coughed as his lungs tried to draw in enough air, but the relief was short lived.

A bare foot was shoved into his back, between his shoulder blades, and pushed him down. "Romanoff!" The reactor scraped against the concrete.

Before he could recover a pair of unrelenting hands were on him. One hand wrapped around his face, the other curved around the back of his head. He knew the hold.

With one fluid movement she would snap his neck.

His heart hammered against his damaged rib cage. He had to act fast. "Natasha!"

The use of her first name seemed to snap her out of her groove. She froze, hands poised and ready to snap him like kindling in a second's notice.

"Whatever they brainwashed you into believing, it's not true," he told her. "You and I are different, Romanoff, but we're the same in some ways too. We don't trust easily. If you remember anything about me, you know that. Think, Romanoff. Remember. I _trust_ you."

It took a lot of effort, but he forced his body to relax. His muscles went lax, his entire frame lowering slightly and making himself dead weight. He felt Romanoff's hands tighten around his head, her fingers digging into the flesh of his face. To his surprise, she began to shake. Her grip didn't loosen, nor did the foot wedged into his back slacken any. He was pinned down by a deadly assassin who could kill him with little effort. Her fingernails scrapped against his cheek to the point he was sure blood was drawn.

"You can trust me too," he reminded her carefully.

"Stark?"

He didn't think he'd ever forget how the assassin's voice wavered, how it sounded empty and yet...desperate. Unless, of course, she snapped his neck and killed him in the next few seconds. "I don't think my head was meant to be held in this position indefinitely."

He released a breath when, ridiculously slowly, she let go of him.

The foot moved off his spine as the assassin stepped away. "What just happened?" she asked.

Tony pushed himself up to his knees and tried to hide the wince as he did so. "I think I'm the one who's supposed to be asking you that," he replied while forcing himself to his feet. He turned to face her and stood completely still as she looked him over. Her gaze was intense, but not threatening as it had been before.

"Are you alright, Stark?"

He gave her a once over as well, taking careful note of if her eyes still appeared distant. They didn't, much to his further relief. "Are you?"

"I was drugged."

"I assumed as much." He relaxed slightly and resisted the urge to lay back down until his body stopped trying to remind him of his mortality. "Worn off just in time," he commented nonchalantly, mostly to break the tension. He could already feel the bruises forming around his neck, and he doubted the drugs had worn off enough to break through the kind of fury that had caused said bruises. Romanoff had fought through whatever concoction Marcus had subjected her to. He had a feeling that it was only because of her sheer will, and possibly his big mouth, that he was alive.

She didn't apologize, didn't attempt to check his injuries, and didn't look away. She just stared, her eyes a blank slate that he couldn't read. It was a little unnerving. Even when Romanoff was at her most secretive, he could usually get _some_ kind of reading off her, whether real or not.

"So if you're done trying to kill me…." He waited for a response, but only received a slightly raised eyebrow. "I'll take that as a 'maybe'. Any idea of how to get out of here?"

"None that I'm going to tell you."

He nodded as he moved around the room, mostly to try and get her eyes off of him. Chances were Marcus was watching at the very least, and probably listening as well. Hatching a verbal plan right now wouldn't be the greatest of ideas. He had to distract her somehow though.

"Hey, Marcus, buddy," he said, looking up at the camera in the corner. "Think you could get us something to eat? Romanoff's probably hungry now that she's done trying to kill me." He used the nonchalance to cover his actual unease. The fact that someone he trusted had just tried to strangle him and break his neck was a little disconcerting, especially after the series of hallucinations he'd recently experienced. It had all hit a little too close to home with the reminder of Andy still hanging over his head.

What was it with people betraying him anyway? Did he have a sign on his back that said 'stab here'? He could trust Romanoff, he _knew_ he could, but that didn't stop the irrational weariness that remained. She'd been drugged, he told himself again. And maybe this was just another hallucination. Maybe being an Avenger, finding people he was willing to care about, all of it…maybe it was all just a manufactured lie. The physical pain he currently felt was a little _too_ real though.

He made a point to turn his back towards Romanoff as he circled the room, both for her reassurance that he still trusted her, and to prove to himself that he wasn't so weak as to be afraid. He had just stopped next to the chair when the door flung open.

One look at Marcus told him the older man was livid. Tony glanced over at Romanoff. "Think he might be a little angry at me for not dying?"

A sudden stabbing pain, like tiny needles of fire, ricocheted up his leg and he automatically reached out to steady himself on the chair. Bullet wound, he instantly realized. In the same leg as the knife wound. A quick look down confirmed the presence of a hole in his lower leg. It was through-and-through by the looks of it, and hadn't hit anything vital. Nothing major. He could still walk on it even. Though the adrenaline was probably helping with that.

He looked back up and leveled Marcus with a 'seriously?' expression. "Was that necessary?"

The gun Marcus still had pointed at him didn't waver. "Made me feel better."

"Well as long as you feel better." Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Romanoff. He chanced a glance over and her eyes darted to the chair. It was so quick he doubted anyone else had noticed.

Apparently they had a game plan.

"Get Agent Romanoff back to her room," Marcus snapped.

Tony took the split-second break in concentration to grab the chair with both hands and swing it at Marcus. It didn't do much good. Marcus hurriedly took a few steps back and the two goonies rushed towards him. It was enough to give Romanoff her opening though.

It was hard to deal with an assassin when you were focused on the distraction.

In a matter of seconds Romanoff had disarmed the goonies. Marcus made an escape down the hall, but Tony refrained from chasing after him. Instead he limped over to the first fallen guard and relieved him of the small tablet tucked into his back pocket.

By the time he stood up again the remaining guard in the hallway had been shot and was probably dead. Romanoff re-entered the room and handed him a gun, which he accepted without complaint while already using the tablet to hack into Marcus' system.

"Follow me, Agent Romanoff," he began while stepping over the bodies and into the hall. "The exit is this way."

Godzilla suddenly appeared at the end of the hall just as he stepped out of the room. Tony raised the gun and shot him in the chest without hesitation and with perfect aim. He'd designed weapons for a living. He certainly knew how to use them proficiently.

He only stiffened minutely when Romanoff raised her gun in his direction and fired three shots. The bullets flew over his shoulder and two 'thuds' told him she had hit her marks as well. He led the way down the corridor without comment and Romanoff fell into step next to him.

"Can you send a message to SHIELD?" she asked as they peered cautiously around the corner.

For the complexity of the place, there weren't all that many people actually here. "I sent a signal out, but everything has been shut down." That was probably where Marcus had run off to, Tony figured. He'd done a complete shutdown of the system just moments after Tony had gotten his hands on the tablet. "Mobile access has been cut off as well."

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" she asked dryly just before shooting a guard who attempted to sneak up behind them.

"I saw the blueprints for the building before the tablet died."

"Don't get us lost, Stark."

"Yes, dear." A door caught his attention and he turned back to check it out. He went through the brief glimpse of the layout he'd gotten and realized it could only be one thing. "How do you feel about explosions?"

Romanoff looked as if she were about to protest, but after a quick glance around to make sure no one was closing in on them, she gave a subtle nod. "Make it quick."

He pushed the door open, and smirked when his eyes fell on the weapons sitting haphazardly around the room. There weren't many of them, and no security measures had been taken to secure them. Apparently Marcus had been confident in his confinement plans enough that he didn't think additional security was necessary.

The guns weren't the most advance weapons he'd ever dealt with, but not many were all that impressive compared to Stark Industries' line of weapons back in the day. He tossed the useless tablet onto a desk and got to work. It wouldn't take much, or very long. A bit of ammo here, a wire jerked out of a spare camera laying nearby, and a few rudimentary tools that were conveniently kept under the desk.

They didn't call him a genius for nothing.

"Hurry up, Stark," Romanoff hissed from her lookout position in the doorway.

"Don't rush perfection."

"Stark."

He rolled his eyes and finished his project in a flash. "Alright, _now_ we should get going. Quickly." He quickened his semi-limping pace down the hallway. "Seriously, let's go, I couldn't really put a timer on that thing."

Romanoff apparently believed him. Her cautious prowling turning into long strides while he had to force himself not to pass out when his lungs stubbornly refused to work properly. It clicked at that moment why the ache and pressure in his chest was so familiar.

They definitely needed to get out quickly.

They were nearing the exit, Tony could see the stairs that would lead out of the underground complex and into the main structure, when bullets began to whiz by them.

Now would be a really good time for him to have his suit.

He swung around and fired at the already wounded goonie while Romanoff turned in the opposite direction to take down the remaining guard. Silence followed and Tony glanced only briefly at Romanoff to make sure she wasn't injured. His inspection was interrupted by the sudden realization that she had her arm pressed against his as if to lend him support.

For a second he thought Romanoff might actually be worried about him.

He brushed it off and hurried towards the exit. The place was going to blow any minute now. With one quick shot the lock fell off the door and they climbed up the stairs. What they emerged into was a large open space that resembled a barn more than anything. The only things missing were the animals and the smell.

Romanoff took the lead, but stopped abruptly, grabbed his arm, and tugged him over to a wall where crates were stacked. "How much of an explosion will there be?" she asked while picking what he realized was a first aid kit out of one of the boxes.

"Not much," he answered. "Enough to cave in the basement. Probably."

She glanced at him sharply at that, but didn't comment. Instead she crouched down, pushed the leg of his pants up, and wrapped the bullet wound with the gauze she'd found. She was done in a few seconds and it was obvious with how quickly and proficiently she'd wrapped it that she'd done this more than once.

"It would've been fine, you know," he pointed out when she turned and started making her way to the large double doors that were already open.

On the way out he noticed other supplies. Gasoline, a tank for plane fuel, food stuffs, and…

Tony paused, reached into a crate, confiscated one of the items, and then hurried out of the barn while ignoring the various protests his body was making.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I still don't own Marvel.

A/N: The first chapter of 2018! I hope you all had a nice New Year's Eve, and that you enjoy this chapter. The first half is from Bruce's POV, and the second is Romanoff's POV.

* * *

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. Hours of searching with no results were taking a toll on all them. SHIELD had insisted on sending undercover agents to investigate the various buildings listed under the Farus name. It took more time, but he saw the logic in subtly. If they launched a raid on one building, and their teammates weren't there, then it might alert their abductors and put Tony and Natasha at greater risk.

"Agents have cleared Bourges."

Bruce looked up from the SHIELD computer as Clint entered the helicarrier's lab. Steve was close behind, looking disappointed and a little concerned.

"Just a bunch of wine," Clint added.

"Frankfurt, Germany is next," Steve commented. "We're not far from there."

"Marcus Farus has a jet in his name, as well a helicopter," Bruce told them as he went back to focusing on his research.

Clint raised an eyebrow. "How much do chemists make? Geez."

"He has several patents for medicinal drugs," Bruce explained. "And a large inheritance left solely to him, since his brother disappeared without a trace."

"Doctor Banner," JARVIS interrupted.

Bruce picked up the tablet that Pepper had given him that came fully equipped with JARVIS. "Go ahead, JARVIS."

"I have discovered a code which I believe is from Mr. Stark and Agent Romanoff."

"What kind of code?" Steve asked.

"It activates my search and rescue capabilities. It is a new program, which we had not yet had the opportunity to test."

Clint smirked. "Please tell me Stark didn't get himself kidnapped to test a new toy."

"Not to my knowledge," JARVIS answered. "If working correctly, and under desirable circumstances, the code would allow me to access the system which it was sent from."

"Would?" Steve asked.

"Unfortunately, the computer system which sent the code was disabled. A total shut down. I was not able to access the system. However, I was able to narrow down where it was sent from."

"That's great, JARVIS. Where?" Bruce asked, turning back to the computer and pulling up the list of Farus properties.

"The property in northern Ireland," the accented voice answered.

"We're the closest," Steve stated. "I'll get Thor and we'll meet you at the Quinjet."

Bruce nodded as the other two left. He wasn't sure where Clint was headed, but it probably had something to do with his most violent and dangerous arrows. He looked at the coordinates on the tablet and smiled slightly. "Good job, Tony," he muttered before heading off to join the others.

* * *

There wasn't much cover to be had in the wide open area. The land rolled with hills, but trees were sparse. "This will do," Natasha announced. The spot of land was far enough from the compound to insure they were safe from any residual explosions, and the few trees around would hide them from passerby's if there were any, which she doubted. They appeared to be in the middle of nowhere. The only lights came from the remnants of the building, fading sun, and the blue glow of Stark's reactor. "Are you sure the distress signal was sent?"

Stark kicked a few twigs into a pile before half-sitting, half-collapsing. "Not really a distress signal. Just a code I know JARVIS will recognize. And yes, I sent it. Whether it was received I don't know. Someone will have to be looking for it to find it. I'm sure by now people have discovered we're missing and are looking, so as long as someone put JARVIS on alert it'll be fine."

Natasha eyed the bag that Stark had tossed onto the ground next to him while he attempted to pile the twigs and sticks into what he apparently intended to be a fire. "Are those marshmallows?"

Stark smirked up at her for a moment. "Yep. Grabbed them on the way out. They had a box full."

"You grabbed marshmallows, but didn't think of grabbing water?" She sat down on the other side of his makeshift fire and selected a couple of suitable sticks that she could light it with. "What kind of genius are you?"

"The hungry kind who had more pressing matters than a little thing like water on his mind." He gestured to what was left of the building. "Do you want to go back and look for water?"

She rolled her eyes. There was no going back into the building now. It could collapse on whoever attempted it. She looked up at the sky, noting that the sun was nearly gone, and how the stars shined brightly down on them. Stark's reactor cast a blue light over them though, giving her enough light to finish lighting the fire. It was small, but it would do to keep at least some of the chill away. She would rather not have a fire, considering it could alert people to their location, but there didn't seem to be anyone around anyway and Stark didn't have a shirt on. Without something to keep him warm, combined with the blood loss, the night air could be dangerous.

Natasha arched an eyebrow while Stark ripped open the bag of marshmallows. "If there's no sign of an extraction team by morning we'll need to start walking," she pointed out. Her eyes flickered over Stark's chest and then his pale face. It was hard to see the extent of the damage in the fire light, but the blue glow of the reactor mixed with the yellow and purple bruises and the red lacerations, and made his torso into a colorful spectacle. She had noticed his trouble breathing as they'd run from the building, but even now it seemed his was having some difficulties.

"Is the reactor damaged?" she asked bluntly.

Stark looked up at her as if trying to figure out why she was asking, and gauging her necessity to know the truth. "Broken rib," he answered. "And I think one of the wires connecting the reactor to the base plate might be loose. It'll be fine as long as you don't plan on trying to kill me again. Then we might have a problem."

She looked away from him and to the fire. She hadn't thought about nearly killing him since their escape attempt. There had been too much going on. Now, however, she was forced to address the fact. Stark didn't sound accusing, but she knew him enough to know he _wouldn't_ sound accusing. He was almost as good at disguising his emotions as she was.

"If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead." It was true and they both knew it. The problem was that they both knew she nearly _had_ killed him, and it was only luck that he'd managed to get through to her before she'd snapped his neck. She hadn't been fully in control. The drug had taken her logic and control and forced her into being open to suggestion. She hadn't been thinking straight, and it had nearly led to Stark's death.

His blood would have been on her hands, and as much as she tried to tell herself it would have really been Farus' fault, when it came down to it, it would have been her hands that had done it. She should have resisted the drug more. She should have been able to withstand Farus' manipulation. If Stark had died, it would have been entirely her own doing.

"Want a marshmallow?"

The question was so random, so at contrast with what she was thinking and how serious the conversation had been seconds before, that she could only look up at him and stare blankly.

"A marshmallow," Stark repeated, holding a stick out to her with two marshmallows on one end. "You know….sugary concoction of white pillow-y bliss? You hold it over the fire and…."

"I know how it works," she interrupted. She accepted the offered stick and stared at it a moment before following Stark's lead and placing the marshmallows near the heat.

"I guess we should probably sing a camp fire song. That's what people usually do, right?" Stark commented after a few seconds of silence.

"I wouldn't know."

"Yeah." Stark's eyes focused on the marshmallow turning brown as if it were taking all his concentration to make it absolutely perfect. "Neither would I."

Silence passed between them. They ate their marshmallows and Stark tossed her a couple more without comment. As the minutes passed she noticed him shift closer to the fire, no doubt to try and stay warm. Her thoughts wondered back over their captivity as she visually scanned their surroundings for any disturbances.

"What did you see while under the hallucinogen?" she asked, her gaze once again focused on the task of roasting the marshmallows.

Stark didn't give any indication that he'd even heard her, but after a minute or so he responded. "You weren't listening?"

"The audio was off. And once I was drugged….I stopped paying attention to the video feed. It's mostly a blur."

"Different things," Stark answered vaguely after another second's hesitation. "All ending the same way though."

She remembered seeing him grab his reactor at one point, and knew that it had been removed repeatedly by their captors. It wouldn't be far-fetched to think that, under the influence of Farus' drugs, that had been what he'd imagined happening. "The reactor?" she asked simply.

He nodded subtly.

She didn't ask for specifics. She wasn't sure if she even wanted to know right now. Not when she'd nearly killed him not too long ago.

Stark suddenly winced and one hand shot to his chest. She narrowed her eyes as if studying someone's tell. It wasn't concern she felt. No, the Black Widow couldn't afford to be concerned about someone, especially not Tony Stark. It was _not_ worry that was twisting her stomach.

"Stark?" she asked. If emotion leaked into her voice against her will, it definitely was not because of her unexpected fondness for the genius across from her.

"Hope Pepper comes with the rescue brigade," he muttered. "She has small hands." As soon as the words were out a dark look crossed his face. But it was the distant look in his eyes, almost cold, that bothered her most.

"Stark, keep breathing."

"Don't start getting mushy on me, Romanoff. I know I'm irresistible, but…"

"Stark…" she deadpanned.

"I'm fine. If the wire wasn't connected I would be dead by now," he assured her. "It's just a little loose and is causing some arrhythmia."

She paused for a moment. "Anything I can do?"

He met her eyes for only a second, but in that time she saw a level of uncertainty that she wouldn't have expected coming from Tony Stark. "As fun as it'd be to have you sticking your hand into my chest, I think I'll pass."

"Then don't do anything stupid, like dying."

"I'll try to restrain myself."

Silence elapsed again. More marshmallows were eaten. After half an hour, Natasha wasn't sure if she preferred this silent brooding Stark or annoyingly talkative Stark.

An hour or so later though the sound of jet engines could be heard cutting through the silence. Lights appeared overhead as SHIELD carriers circled in the distance. If she wasn't so tired, if her head didn't hurt, and if she wasn't afraid to leave Stark unattended she would have gotten up to wave them down. Instead she sat with a marshmallow roasting in their small fire while Stark popped one into his mouth.

And that was how the team found them. Tony and Natasha, sitting by a small fire, eating marshmallows without a care in the world, and as if they hadn't just nearly died a few hours before.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Do I need to say it again?

A/N: I'm sad to say that there's only a couple more chapters after this one. I hope you'll like what's left of the story. For now though, Tony still has a bit of a problem...

* * *

Tony felt something run through his hair. It was soft, gentle, and warm. It took a moment for him to realize it was a hand combing through his hair. It was almost…affectionate. There was only one person that could be.

"Pepper…" he murmured hoarsely.

The hand instantly disappeared.

"Banner," a voice said nearby. "He's waking up."

He recognized the voice as Romanoff's, but in his exhaustion he couldn't connect the voice with the person who had been comforting him. He forced his eyelids to open only to find himself staring up at the Russian spy. "Pepper?" he asked.

"We're still on the helicarrier," Romanoff answered. "Pepper is waiting for you at the tower."

Before he could respond or question why she had been petting him, Bruce appeared. As soon as his eyes fell on him, the other genius smiled with obvious relief. "We were getting worried."

"S'no reason to worry." His words slurred together slightly in a way he definitely didn't like. He tried to sit up, but Bruce put a hand on his shoulder and carefully pushed him back down.

"You need to stay still, Tony."

He looked down at himself and realized two things. One, he was hooked up to an IV, and the second was that he still wasn't wearing a shirt. His torso did look a bit cleaner now though. "What's going on?"

"You have a concussion," Bruce answered. At the same time Rogers, Clint, and Thor filed into the room. He hadn't even noticed Romanoff poking her head into the hallway to speak to them. "One of the lacerations on your back in infected, and one on your chest looks like it's on its way there."

Tony glance down at the bandages over his abdomen. "What's in the…" He gestured to the IV.

"Saline solution. You and Natasha were both dehydrated."

Tony glanced over at Romanoff who arched an eyebrow as if to point out his choice in marshmallows over water again. She appeared to be physically fine though, so obviously his taste in snacks hadn't killed her.

"Why can't I move?" he asked. An IV was no reason not to sit up. Even a broken rib had never stopped him.

"It's the arc reactor, Tony," Bruce answered carefully. "There's a loose connection, and moving around might disconnect it entirely. Natasha says it was removed repeatedly. It's put a lot of strain on your heart and lungs. You need to take it easy."

"Banged your head pretty good too, Stark," Barton commented. "We weren't sure you were going to wake up this century once you passed out on the jet."

Bruce cracked a faint smile before focusing on Tony again. "We might need to reconnect the wire now, Tony. The arrhythmia is getting worse, and one wrong move…."

"I'll wait for Pepper. She's done this kind of thing before," he interrupted, making a point not to look at anyone directly. A memory flashed through his mind, of Pepper looking at the hole in his chest with disgust. It hadn't been real though. Pepper wouldn't just walk away, he told himself. He could feel Romanoff's eyes boring into the side of his face, as if she _knew_ what he was thinking, but he ignored it.

Bruce shifted from foot to foot and shook his head. "I really don't think there's time. By the time we reach the tower….Tony, I don't think it's worth the risk. I've read the information on the reactor that you gave me. We might not have all your equipment, but Romanoff has small enough hands. We could get it reattached without much of a problem."

Tony's eyes darted to Romanoff. Their eyes met, and he saw no trace of reluctance, but he wouldn't expect to even if she was reluctant to stick her hand into his chest and play operation. He looked away in time to see Rogers take a step closer, and couldn't help the way his muscles suddenly tensed. All this talk about taking out the reactor to fix it, with the vivid memories of the hallucinations still fresh….couldn't blame a guy for a knee jerk reaction.

"It's for the best, Stark," Steve commented. If he'd noticed Tony's reaction, he didn't acknowledge it.

"I feel fine." He started to push himself up, but stopped abruptly when his breath caught in his throat and a machine somewhere or another started beeping frantically. Every muscle suddenly froze and his lungs constricted painfully. A hand on his shoulder pushed him down, and he glanced over the assembled Avengers. His heart was still hammering in his ears when he found his voice again. "Okay, operation it is."

Tony knew that knowing the reactor existed and seeing it in person were two different things. This was the first time half of the team had seen the reactor without a shirt covering it. Bruce caught his eye and they shared a look, the physicist trying to encourage him and let him know that what he was about to do was nothing to be taken lightly. Bruce understood. He thought Romanoff might understand now too.

"Ready, Tony?"

"Oh yeah. Always ready, big guy," Tony replied.

Bruce nodded, and Tony watched as his hand moved towards the reactor. He swallowed thickly as his heart raced and memories of hallucinations flashed through his head. The memories still felt so…. _real_. Was he even sure this wasn't another hallucination? _Could_ he be sure?

But then again, what did it matter what was reality anymore? The reactor would be taken out one way or another.

"I got it," Tony said calmly. Howard would be proud of how well he covered his panic. Or maybe he wouldn't. It had been hard to tell with Howard, and he couldn't exactly ask. He looked down at his chest as he hooked his fingers around the reactor, twisted carefully, and pulled it out just enough so that the wires were still mostly connected.

Bruce glanced at his face only briefly before taking the reactor out of his hand. "When I disconnect this, we'll need to work fast, Natasha."

Tony felt his jaw clench, and turned his attention to something other than the device keeping him alive being in Bruce's hands or the irrational fear that his friend would take it and leave him to die. Instead he focused on his other three team members. He watched their faces as they first laid eyes on the hole in his chest, saw the dark shadows and awe that fell across their faces as they realized just how big a part of him the reactor was. How _imbedded_ in him it was. He thought Steve might be looking and trying to figure out _how_ it was possible he was even alive.

He ignored when Romanoff stood over him and tried to subtly catch his eye, as if wanting to reaffirm that he wanted her to do this. "Don't let the wires touch the sides of the casing," he stated, still not meeting her eyes. It was the only reassurance she would get.

Romanoff nodded silently, obviously taking the whole situation seriously. Her hand dipped into the cavity and he tensed. He distantly heard Bruce giving her instructions, and he didn't bother adding anything. He didn't think he could get his voice to work at the moment. He nearly shuddered when her nails scrapped the casing wall. The vibration seemed to echo through his entire chest.

Tony stared at the ceiling. He focused on breathing, and not the fact that his entire team was watching Romanoff stick her hand into his chest and play with wires that, if ripped out right now, would probably kill him.

"I found it," Romanoff stated. "It's barely connected to the base plate."

"Good, good," Bruce commented.

Tony felt a hand on his shoulder, and realized it belonged to Bruce. He risked a glance over at Romanoff, and a small part of him half-expected to see hallucinated-Pepper's look of revulsion mirrored on the assassin's face. It wasn't though. Natasha was focused, intent on her task, and there was no hint of disgust. This was a mission to her, and she, like Bruce, was taking it seriously.

Another hand was on his ankle. He looked down to find that it was Thor. The royal Asgardian watched the makeshift operation with a look of concern. Not pity for him, just honest and somber concern for a friend which he was wearing on his sleeve as openly as Tony wore arrogance on his.

Okay, so this wasn't too bad. No one was running off with his reactor. No one was pitying him or turning away from the mess that was his chest.

He felt the moment Natasha reconnected the wire. A shock stabbed through his body like an electric current. "Yeow!" he exclaimed reflexively. His head fell back against the bed with a little more force than was probably a good idea, considering how his vision turned black for a moment.

He moved his jaw from side-to-side and clenched his hands. Bruce locked the reactor back into place and Tony looked down at it to double check, absently tapping it as he scooted up into a sitting position. "Well, that was fun. Let's not do it again anytime soon."

Admittedly, he was breathing better. He hadn't even realized how little oxygen he'd been getting until he could suddenly breath normally again. Even with the broken rib pressing against his lung, it was easier to breath.

"Marcus Farus?" Tony asked, partially to distract them all from what had just happened.

"He escaped," Romanoff answered. "SHIELD found two of the guards we left for them in the debris though."

"Have you ever heard of someone called Alvin Larres, Tony?" Rogers asked.

He leaned forward so Bruce could check the bandages on his back. "Should I have?"

Romanoff beat the others to the answer. "It's Andy, Stark."

Tony's gaze flickered to Romanoff, who stared back at him after informing him of that little piece of news. "Marcus said…" Another lie, of course. Why would he expect their kidnapper to tell the truth? The question was, why lie in the first place? He'd obviously intended for Tony to never leave. Romanoff had been set loose on him for one purpose, and that had been to kill him.

"So you know of this Andrew Farus?" Thor asked, seeking confirmation since Tony hadn't finished his sentence.

Romanoff continued to watch him and made no effort to fill the rest of their team in. The rest of the team didn't know, Tony realized. Which meant that Romanoff hadn't told them what he had told her about Andy. She'd kept his secret.

"Oh yeah," Tony replied, it came out with a dry, bitter sarcasm. "Andy and I go way back."

"The FBI are now investigating him," Romanoff stated before any of the others could press for further explanation. "And Fury found the leak. They think he was under Farus' pay roll. We'll know more after he's questioned, but SHIELD's theory is that Alvin Larres thought you might figure out who he really was and wanted to get rid of you before he became a senator."

"I had a talk with this little old lady in Ohio," Clint began. "Larres' almost mother-in-law. Her daughter died in a car accident, but guess who was driving that car?"

Tony couldn't really care less at the moment, but apparently he was supposed to. "Santa Clause?"

"Marcus Farus," Clint answered. "She fed me cookies and told me a long, detailed, story about how her daughter had been dating Marcus Farus, around the time you and Andrew Farus would have been at MIT. A couple of years after Andrew Farus disappeared, Larres showed up and started dating her daughter instead."

"That's probably why Marcus was so intent on causing you pain, Stark," Romanoff continued. "In his deranged mind he thought you were responsible for his brother showing up and stealing his girlfriend. It's entirely possible that the car accident wasn't really an accident either. He didn't blame his brother, he just blamed her, and you. So when his brother decided that you needed to die…."

"They thought they could get some SHIELD or Stark Industries information out me….or rather us," he added, shooting her a quick look. "And get rid of me at the same time. And Marcus, being the psychotic man he apparently is, figured what a better time to get some revenge as well."

Romanoff nodded, confirming his theory as being the same as hers.

"Why would he blame you for his brother changing identities and stealing his girlfriend though," Steve asked.

Tony could think of a few reasons. The most likely being that Andy had disappeared and changed his name in an effort to hide after selling Tony Stark out. If that hadn't happened, chances were Andy never would have gone to Ohio to stay with his brother, and probably wouldn't have met Marcus' girlfriend before they were at least engaged.

"What can I say…" Tony feigned a smug look. "People like to blame me for things."

Steve rolled his eyes, and Tony wasn't sure if he was amused or annoyed with the answer. Eventually he would tell the rest of his team, or at least Bruce, the long tale of Andy Farus and the start of a cycle of betrayal that would follow him throughout his life. Right now he didn't really feel like divulging that information though. He'd already had enough heart-to-heart conversations with Romanoff to last a lifetime.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

A/N: Sorry about the wait! This isn't a very long chapter, but it contains both Stark and Romanoff's POV. It's just a little snippet with some exposition, and takes place a day or so after they escaped. The story isn't over quite yet though. There's still one final chapter after this one. I hope you like it!

* * *

Tony slowly spun his chair back and forth as he tapped a screwdriver against his leg. Holographic displays of Stark Industry stocks, lists of his own personal projects, and information from SHIELD filled the lab around him. He'd been banned from the lab, but everyone else was probably asleep and he wasn't actually _doing_ anything.

He just sat there and stared at the photo displayed in front of him.

Alvin Larres, formally Andy Farus, smiled a crooked smile in the holographic image. He might not have recognized Marcus at first, but he was pretty sure he would have recognized the guy in the photo despite the surgeries meant to disguise him. He stood up, tossed the screwdriver onto a tray, and moved closer to the image of his former friend turned enemy.

His bruised side ached as he moved, but it was bearable. The worst of his problems had been the head wound and the reactor. The damage to the arc reactor had been worse than they'd originally thought, but the make-shift operation on the helicarrier had made it possible for him to live long enough to get a replacement reactor. Now all he had to deal with were the bruises, broken rib, lacerations, and the knife and bullet wound. Considering he'd nearly had his neck broken by a highly trained assassin, he thought the other temporary consequences of his captivity weren't too bad. Because if Romanoff had actually killed him...

' _Wouldn't that have been ironic_ ', Tony thought to himself as he stared at Andy's photo. The irony of Andy, of all people, being the one to orchestrate his death at the hands of his own teammate. At the hands of someone he trusted. If it had worked, he imaged both Marcus and Andy would have had a good laugh.

Andy probably wasn't laughing right now though. Marcus was still MIA, but Andy had been taken into custody earlier that day, though Tony had yet to discover which organization currently had him locked up. He wasn't sure he if wanted to find out where Andy was being held anyway. A part of him wanted to face the man, taunt him a bit, and maybe ask a question or two. At the same time he knew he wouldn't get any decent answers from Andy Farus. At least none that would make anything...better.

What was done was done, and he was perfectly fine with the thought of Andy rotting away in a dingy cell somewhere. The whole situation might be giving him nightmares, but nightmares were nothing new. Nightmares could be dealt with. He was alive, Romanoff was alive, and he had no intention of letting either Farus brother haunt him for the rest of his life.

With one final look at Andy's photo Tony swiped the image away, closed down the rest of the files, and headed out of the lab.

* * *

Natasha knew that Fury was aware of her presence, but she waited silently for him to turn around all the same. Eventually he dropped the file he'd been reading onto his desk and, as she'd expected, he didn't seem surprised to find her standing in his office.

"Agent Romanoff," he greeted. "I don't remember calling you in."

"You didn't."

"I'm guessing this isn't a social visit," he commented. "So I won't offer you a chair. Speak your mind, Agent. I've got things to do."

"Where's Andrew Farus?" she asked without missing a beat.

"Somewhere he won't be getting out of anytime soon. And Alvin Larres had an unfortunate car accident."

The irony of the cover-up being a car accident wasn't lost on her.

There was still the brother though, the man who had taken such interest in tormenting Stark. She knew Marcus Farus was still in hiding and, given his resources, would probably stay under the radar for the foreseeable future. Now that she was aware of that threat, however, she would be more prepared for it. If he surfaced she would know, and she would ensure that he never had the opportunity to come in contact with Stark again.

"And the leak?" she asked further. Fury hadn't told her much about the leak, only that they'd found one. She'd known that there was more to the story as soon as she'd heard it. It'd been too simple. Stark had still been in critical condition at the time though, so she hadn't pressed the matter at the time. "SHIELD just happened to catch him?" she added, a touch of sarcasm leaking into her tone.

Fury didn't answer right away, apparently weighing his options, but finally he decided to humor her. "We've had a suspicion for a while that there was a leak, but couldn't find who it was. When we intercepted information on a plan to abduct Stark, I sent you in. We knew whoever the leak was would alert the would-be abductors. We were waiting and watching, and after you and Stark were taken we found evidence that someone sent your information to an outside source. Probably so they would know how to handle you."

"Stark was the target. I was a pawn." There was no emotion in the words, she recognized the strategy as logical even if it was also risky, but internally she couldn't help but feel slightly bitter about going into a situation unprepared.

"We used you to filter out a traitor. I knew you could handle it."

"I almost killed Stark."

"Almost doesn't count," Fury replied without hesitation.

Natasha paused before replying. "It might to Stark." With that she turned to leave. There was nothing left to say. She'd gotten the information she'd come for.

"Since when does Stark's opinion of you matter?" she heard Fury ask just as she reached the door.

She stopped, but didn't look back. "It doesn't. But Stark's trust matters." She slipped out the door without waiting for any other comment, and left the helicarrier as quietly as she'd appeared.


	13. Epilogue

Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own the Avengers.

A/N: Well, here we are. The last chapter. I'm going to post a short X-Men: Evo fic after this, but then I'll be posting a short Avengers fic and maybe a couple of drabbles. I'm hoping that by the time I finish posting all the things I wrote during NaNoWrimo I'll have my current in-progress Avengers fic finished. So, basically, I'll be back. Also, I just wanted to thank you all again for giving this fic a chance, for all the great reviews, and for adding to alerts/favorites. I wasn't expecting such a warm welcome since this was my first Avengers fic. So thank you! Ok, here's the last chapter...

* * *

Natasha walked silently into the common area, but stopped upon seeing who was already present. Stark padded barefoot around the small kitchen. He looked up as she approached, but continued doing what he was doing. She slid onto a barstool at the counter and watched, still without saying a word.

It was late, nearly three in the morning, and while that wouldn't usually be abnormal for the insomniac engineer it did seem a little odd considering Pepper had been around for the three days since they'd escaped. No one had seen much of Stark in that time, since Pepper had insisted he actually rest. How Stark had escaped Pepper Potts' watchful eyes, she didn't know.

"Does Pepper know you're making coffee at three in the morning?" she finally asked.

"Probably not," Stark answered, turning with his fresh cup of coffee and, to her further surprise, a bag of marshmallows. He placed both on the counter just below the counter she was sitting at. "She left a few hours ago. Meeting in Japan."

Natasha nodded. "Weren't you supposed to be going to that meeting as well?"

"I have a doctor's note." The smirk that crossed his face only succeeded in making him look tired.

Stark turned his attention to his phone and sipped his coffee. He didn't bother to ask why she was awake, she noticed. He probably didn't need to.

She watched him without really paying attention to him. The thoughts that had kept her from sleeping continued to roll through her mind. Thoughts like the fact that she had been _controlled_ and forced to nearly kill someone. She had spoken with Clint the day before, they had shared their experiences with being manipulated and controlled, but the thoughts continued all the same. It was odd really. Rarely did anything like this bother her.

"It was us, wasn't it?" she eventually asked, breaking the silence.

Stark didn't look up at her. "When?"

"In your hallucinations. When you imagined the arc reactor being taken out." She'd noticed his reaction to seeing Rogers upon waking up on the helicarrier. His apprehension when Bruce had wanted to remove the reactor, and when she had reconnected the wire, had been somewhat out of character as well. "We were the ones taking it out."

Stark met her eyes, and she saw the answer before he ever replied verbally. "Yeah. My turn for a question. Why did you stop? What made you rethink the idea of killing me?"

Natasha glanced down, unsure if she wanted to answer. He had been honest though, and if she ever wanted to get answers out of Stark in the future, then she needed to play along. "You called me Natasha. You never call me by my first name. I guess it…caught my attention. Then you said you trusted me. I woke up." She waited for her answer to sink in before pressing a bit further. There was no telling when Stark would be so willing to speak with her like this again. "Why do you always call me Romanoff?"

It wasn't a complaint. She felt more comfortable with the barrier. She recognized the oddity of it though. Stark rarely went without giving someone a nickname, regardless of whether they were friend or foe. At times it was obviously a distancing maneuver, and others a sign of affection. Rogers was almost always 'Cap', Rhodes was 'Rhodey'. Even Clint had nicknames. The only two people he called by their first names on a regular basis were Pepper and Bruce. She, on the other hand, had neither a nickname nor a first name when it came to Stark.

"It's your name. As far as I know at least," he answered.

It was a purposefully vague answer, and not one she was willing to accept. "You know what I mean."

"I figured you've had enough names and deserve a real one. I'm pretty sure Romanoff is your real name, I don't know if Natasha is a real one or not," he answered, popping open the bag of marshmallows without looking at her.

"It is," she informed him. "It's my name."

Stark nodded and sipped his coffee.

She took it as an invitation to continue her line of questioning. "Why do you think I deserve a real name?"

She knew what she'd done over the years. Was well aware of the red in her ledger. Very few people would think that the Black Window deserved such common decency.

Stark rolled his eyes, as if exasperated with the whole thing. "You're one of the good guys, Romanoff." Seeing her blank expression, he continued. "By the time I was fifteen I knew there were three types of people. The ones who use you, the ones who abuse you, and ones who don't care one way or another." He paused, the words sitting heavily between them for a moment. "Then a few years ago I met someone in a cave who proved that there was a fourth kind."

"Yinsen," she stated.

"Yinsen. The Avengers…" He gestured vaguely around them, as if gesturing to all the assembled people in the tower. "Are the good guys. You're one of the good guys. Accept it, deal with it, and move on."

She wasn't sure how to respond to that. The only person to ever come straight out and call her a 'good guy' was Clint. She watched as Tony popped a marshmallow calmly into his mouth as if the little speech hadn't just happened, as if he hadn't just shown her a glimpse of his inner workings and _feelings_.

"You can call me Natasha," she told him. It wasn't a permission she gave out easily, and she knew he would understand. "Occasionally."

A half-smile flickered briefly across his face before he held out a hand. "Natasha," he greeted.

She studied the offered hand before shaking it, the unspoken agreement was clear. "Tony."

"It's gonna suck when you all continue the cycle of betrayal," he commented nonchalantly, but she understood enough about him now to hear the bitterness underneath.

"I'm going to try my best to break the cycle."

He nodded and the half-smile returned, this time reaching his eyes, as he held out the bag of sugary confections. "Marshmallow?"

She glanced from the bag to his face, and was suddenly reminded of all the times she'd seen him offer Bruce some of whatever he was snacking on at the time. She hadn't thought much of it before, but it seemed he apparently offered food to people he liked. Her lips quirked into a semblance of a smile as she reached into the bag and grabbed a few. "Thanks."


End file.
